She Don't Dream for Me
by caramelo
Summary: Complete. Her boyfriend and best friend cheated on her, her parents don't care, and in nine months her life could be over. There's only one person left to turn to. Somebody she never expected..NB
1. Forget About Me

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill_ or anything related to it._

_Episode Guide/Spoilers:_ This picks up right after "How Can You Be Sure?" and begins in Brooke's point of view at the start of "What Is And What Should Never Be." It loosely bases itself around that episode's plot and then spins off entirely into a completely different plotline.

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_**Author's Update: **_If you've read this story before, and things seem different to you in this chapter, that's because they are. I'm at a point in my life where I finally have time to write again, and whenever I'm stuck on _Blueprint_, I open up this old fic and start revising. Up until now, it's all been little minor revisions, but starting with chapter 1, I'm now doing some major re-writes. That's not to say I intend to make the whole thing unrecognizable from its former version. The plot's the same, as well as the ending, no worries there, but overall I'm just trying to make the writing tighter and the characterizations stronger. Some individual scenes will be cut, some will be added. It's been a long time since I first started writing fanfic for OTH (and this was my first story!), and I like to think I've gotten a better grip on the Tree Hill universe – and my own writing – since then. Clearly, this story is very old, so I mostly doing this for my own personal satisfaction, but if anybody out there happens to stumble across this, I hope you like (or, at least, don't mind) the changes.

* * *

When Brooke Davis fell in love with Lucas Scott, she never imagined he'd be the kind of boy who'd make her regret it.

"I give a rat's ass about you," he had told her as they sat side-by-side on his porch. And even though it was a chilly evening in mid-October, and she had been sitting outside waiting for him for almost an hour before that, under his gaze she felt warm. So Brooke, for the first time, had decided to let her guard down and trust him.

Two weeks later, a few grainy images on a webcam showed her how stupid she was. Lucas Scott didn't care about her any more than the dozens of boys who had come before him.

That was exactly why she decided to feed him some lie about there never really being a baby. She didn't want to live with, nor have her baby raised by, some asshole who had cheated on her with her best friend.

She wished she had never even shared her suspicions about the pregnancy with him in the first place. She wasn't really sure why she even did it. It must have been an odd, blind reaction to the panic she had felt after seeing the little pink positive sign in the home pregnancy test she had bought at the drugstore.

Brooke laid a hand on her flat stomach. Long ago, when she was small, she used to stuff pillows under her shirt and pretend she was pregnant. Five minutes later, the pillow would be abandoned and replaced with a doll in her arms, and just like that, Brooke had a family.

"I'll love you forever and ever," she'd whisper in the doll's ear as she combed its hair, changed its clothes, and set a place next to hers for it at the otherwise empty dinner table.

But Brooke was older now, and she knew there was no happily ever after this time around. Her parents still popped up about as often as they did when she was young (which was to say, not very), but she was still fairly certain they'd notice a new, wailing baby in the house. How would she explain that one away?

_Well, you see, Mom, it's kind of funny. There was me and this guy. I loved him, you know. We used protection and everything, but did you know that two percent of the time it doesn't work? I guess I was in that two percent. That sure is some rotten luck, isn't it? Just wait, it gets even worse. The guy that I was with, well, I guess he didn't love me as much as I loved him. He's dating my ex-best friend Peyton now, I think. You haven't met Peyton, have you? I'll have to introduce you guys sometime…_

They'd kick her ass out onto the streets in under an hour. The Davis family didn't have a lot of love to spare – or pity, for that matter. In this town, they were the royal family of Image, and letting anything tarnish that was out of the question. A pregnant 16 year-old was unforgiveable.

There was really only one option, much as Brooke had tried to avoid thinking about when she first found out she carrying Lucas Scott's child. She couldn't raise a kid without the financial support of her family. She didn't know the first thing about getting a job. Even if she did, no measly part-time, minimum-wage thing was going to be enough to put a roof over their heads and support the two of them.

And, remembering little pillow-pregnant Brooke, the one who'd lovingly wake up in the middle of the night to rock a doll, she wouldn't be able to give the baby up for adoption either. Deep down, wrapped up in a knot in her chest she wouldn't let herself touch, she still had that same fierce desire for a family. If she actually went through the pregnancy, held the baby in her arms, she knew she'd do something rash – like decide to keep it.

"Abortion," Brooke murmured, rolling the word around in her mouth. She bit her lip. Was it something she could actually go through with?

Brooke had done a lot of things in her life that she wasn't proud of, things that other people would call cold-hearted or even cruel, and she couldn't even begin to fathom how this would stack up in comparison to everything else. But once she finally acknowledged the idea, it lingered, unwilling to be thrown out. She knew, instinctively, just like she knew how to roll her hips or when to paste a bright smile on her face, that this was the most viable option.

"Sorry, baby," she said, staring down at her stomach with a bitter smile on her face. "But Momma's got no choice right now. It's for the best, I promise. You don't want to have to deal with any bullshit here. You really don't."

She brushed away the tears that welled in her eyes, refusing to consider what it might mean if she was already crying this early in the game. "I'm really sorry," she whispered again. Then she flicked off her light and dragged herself to bed, burrowing herself deep in her covers as she fell into a fitful sleep.

_"Miss Davis? Miss Davis? It's over. You did a great job."_

_Brooke lay on the bed, panting and pale, face pinched with pain. _

_"Congratulations, Miss Davis. It's a boy."_

_The doctor placed the newborn child in Brooke's waiting arms, and Brooke cooed at him lovingly, her earlier pain already forgotten. "Hey, baby," she said as she smiled through a thick wave of tears. "I love you."_

_Brooke looked up to see the doctor to thank her for delivering her baby in such perfect condition and was surprised to see, "Karen?"_

_Karen simply smiled and before Brooke had a chance to question her more, she heard a tap. Shocked, she saw that there was a large window taking up the majority of the front wall, making her room easily seen to people in the hall. What surprised her even more were the people tapping. It was Peyton and Lucas, hand in hand. _

_Brooke's face contorted in anger. Of all the nerve…She ought to go out there and pound their scrawny asses right now._

_But her thoughts were interrupted when suddenly, a loud, earsplitting alarm went off. Yellow and red warning lights flashed all around her, and Karen rushed back in, followed by an army of doctors._

_"What's going on?" Brooke demanded. "What's happening?"_

_Karen ignored her and snatched the baby out of her hands. She carried the baby over to a portable stretcher and began doing chest compressions. The baby started screaming._

_"Stop it!" Brooke cried. "You're hurting him!"_

_Suddenly, the baby's wails cut short, and Karen's shoulders slumped. "We lost him," she said, defeated._

_"No!" Brooke shrieked. "No! No!"_

_Lucas and Peyton shot her dark glares from their vantage point. Brooke could hear Peyton mutter "murdering bitch" through the thin glass of the window. Brooke gasped. Did she really do something to kill her baby?_

_Karen wouldn't meet her eyes, and Peyton and Lucas wouldn't stop staring. Over in the corner, a nurse was wrapping her baby up in blankets. It suddenly seemed uncomfortably hot in the room. Brooke realized that she was gasping for air. Vaguely, she thought she might be hyperventilating. "Calm down, Brooke," somebody said, sounding far away. "Calm down. Everything's going to be okay." She tried to hold onto that voice, wanting desperately to believe it._

_But she couldn't breathe._

With a gasp, Brooke wrenched her covers off her face. Her breathing was ragged and fast, like in her dream, and as she looked down at the knotted bedsheets around her, Brooke wondered if she had really almost smothered herself in her sleep.

After a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying to calm down and reassure herself that everything was okay, Brooke forced herself out of bed and stumbled over to the bathroom. "I look awful," she moaned, examining the dark bags under her eyes in the mirror. The dream soon flew out of her head entirely as she busied herself with washing her face and applying mounds of concealer on. But no matter how artfully she did her make-up, nothing seemed to cover up how tired she really was. Eventually, she had to abandon the bathroom mirror to hurry up and get around to everything else she had to do to that morning. Already, she was running a good five minutes late.

Fifteen minutes later, Brooke rushed out of her house in her standard outfit – jeans and a low-cut top, digging through her purse for her keys. She cursed herself mentally while climbing into her car. "I did not need this today," she said, exasperated. "I really did not need this."

She was so lost in her own thoughts for the next few minutes, driving down the road, that she almost didn't notice the car in front of her slow down to let a squirrel pass by. She screamed and jammed her heel on the brakes, narrowly screeching to a stop only inches behind the other car. Brooke slammed her palm down on the horn and yanked her steering wheel into the left lane as her shock faded into anger.

"Learn how to drive, jackass," she yelled as she passed by the car, furious. The other driver, obviously agitated as well, honked his own horn and flipped her off.

"Fuck you too," Brooke scoffed.

Finally, Brooke pulled into the parking lot, tires screeching as she wrenched her car into its usual spot. She checked her reflection in the rear-view mirror and winced, but otherwise did nothing. There wasn't any time to fix her make-up again. The bell was going to ring in a few…

The bell rang.

"Shit!" Brooke yelled. A few burnouts still left hanging out around the parking lot sent amused glances in her direction. "What are you staring at?" she demanded, slamming her car door shut and stalking off towards her first period class.

"You're late, Miss Davis," her English teacher, Mr. Baker reprimanded when she swept into the room.

"I know," she said as she sat down, careful to keep her voice cool and flippant in front of the rest of her classmates. "Car trouble. It won't happen again."

Mr. Baker studied her appraisingly for a few seconds before he shook his head and moved on. Brooke slumped her shoulders in relief and pulled out her notebook. She turned to the person behind her to ask for a copy of what she had missed in the first few minutes and was surprised to see Nathan.

"You don't sit here," she hissed at him. "Bevin does."

Nathan shrugged. "Mr. Baker got fed up dealing with me and Haley. This is my new seat."

She rolled her eyes. Sure, Nathan's notes were bound to be better than Bevin's, who had this strange habit of drawing animals in the margins and couldn't spell worth shit, but she doubted he was as good a gossip as her fellow cheerleader for when the class got boring.

"Whatever lover-boy," she said. "I need to borrow your notes."

"Aren't you little miss sunshine today," Nathan said dryly. "Whatever happened to _please_?"

"Listen, Scott," Brooke said, her patience wearing thin. "I'm not in the mood to deal with your bullshit. Just give them to me."

"Okay, okay." Nathan held up his hands in a sign of peace. "Calm down. There you go," he said, handing her his notebook.

"Thank you," she spat, spinning back around her seat.

Nathan shook his head. He was used to Brooke's moods after dating Peyton for so long, but she had never been quite this awful. For what may have been the first time in her life, Brooke Davis was losing her cool. These past few weeks she had been especially snippy, even withdrawn.

He briefly wondered what was up with her before he pushed the thought from his mind. Whatever it was, it was Brooke's problem. It probably had to do with that whole mess between her, Peyton and Lucas, and that thankfully didn't involve him anymore.

"Thanks," Brooke mumbled, more sincere this time, as she handed him back his notes over her shoulder.

"You're welcome," Nathan said. Before he could stop himself, he continued, "It's a lot nicer when somebody shows a little gratitude instead of acting like a total bitch."

Brooke stiffened. "It's also nice when somebody cuts you a little slack when you're having a bad day," she said, her voice tight.

She seemed to be speaking to herself after that. "God, I need to get out of here. I don't even know why I came in the first place." She raised her hand and waved at the teacher to catch his attention. "I have to go to the bathroom," she said, not bothering to wait for an answer as she gathered up her things and walked out. It was obvious she wasn't coming back.

Nathan felt a twinge of guilt as he watched Brooke disappear down the hall. What was that about?

Once out of the classroom, Brooke didn't know what to do with herself. She wandered around the school for a while, skillfully avoiding any other teachers or staff that might bust her for skipping. Eventually, she ended up standing in front of the library, a place she hadn't been inside in, well, ever.

Well, she thought after a moment of contemplation, it wasn't like she had anything better to do. So she walked in. Once inside, however, her eyes narrowed in on the computers in the corner, and suddenly, she knew exactly what she was going to do: a little bit of research.

Brooke slunk past the librarian, unnoticed, and then hurried over to claim a free computer to herself – though, she noted, it wasn't as if she had a lot of competition. The library was pretty much empty. She glanced around anyway to make sure nobody was in the immediate vicinity before she pulled up the search bar and typed in "abortion."

Four million hits.

"What a mess," she sighed, dismayed. "How am I supposed to sort through all this stuff?"

"Sort through what stuff?" a voice asked quietly behind her.

Ice ran through Brooke's veins as the voice registered. Lucas. Quickly, she minimized the screen and tried her best to look both innocent and pissed off. The pissed off part wasn't hard.

"Stuff that ex-boyfriends who cheat don't need to know about," she said coolly.

Lucas raked a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. The tight expression on his face belied his feelings of guilt. Good, Brooke thought viciously, hoping it was tearing him up inside the same way he had torn her up.

"Come on, Brooke," he pleaded. "Can't we just put everything behind us once and for all?"

"I don't think so, ex-boyfriend," Brooke snapped. "I don't play nice with liars."

"Liars?" Lucas cried incredulously. "What about that whopper of a lie you had going on last week?"

Brooke kept her face carefully blank. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"Oh, real mature, Brooke," Lucas said. "You had me up for three nights straight thinking you were pregnant."

As tempting as it was to say _I never lied_ and watch Lucas have a total mental breakdown – the boy was such an open book, something she used to find charming – Brooke managed to keep herself from voicing those particular words out loud.

"Are you looking for sympathy?" she asked instead.

Lucas stared at her, the frustration evident in his eyes. He looked down and took a few deep breaths before looking back up at her. "No," he said finally. "I'm asking for forgiveness."

Somehow, Brooke kept down the laughter that was suddenly bubbling up inside her. "Sorry," she said. "You're not going to get it here."

"Damn it, Brooke," Lucas finally snapped. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

Brooke stood up in front of him and stared him straight in the eye, only inches away. She swallowed. It was tough, being this close to him. They hadn't gone near each other after the break-up. But she couldn't let him see that he affected her that much.

"Listen, Lucas," she said, barely able to conceal the tremor in her voice. "I'm going to give you some advice—and I'm only gonna give it once so listen good." She paused and swallowed again before speaking. Her voice was steady, stronger now. Good. "Stay away from me. Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me. Go be with Peyton and live out your perfect lives together, and forget about me. Trust me, I'll be doing the same."

"Brooke…" Lucas began in protest.

"You're not getting my point, Lucas," Brooke interjected. "I don't want anything to do with you."

Lucas paused, his eyes searching Brooke's for any sort of sign. Anything that would tell him that she didn't mean what she said. He obviously didn't find it. "Fine," he said, his voice soft and defeated. "If that's what you want." He turned and walked out of the library. The door shut behind him with a bang that echoed in the silence.

Brooke kept her eyes trained on the spot where she had last seen him. Tears sprung to her eyes. Suddenly, she didn't feel like laughing anymore.

"Brooke?" a voice said hesitantly behind her.

Brooke spun around, hurriedly brushing the tears away. To her chagrin, she found Nathan. "Great," she scoffed. "I get rid of one Scott only to have him replaced by another."

"Haha, very funny," Nathan deadpanned. Then his expression twisted into one of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am," Brooke said, waving her hand flippantly. "Shouldn't you be in class or something?"

"Shouldn't you?" he countered.

Brooke shrugged. She began to examine her nails in a way of conveying her waning interest with the conversation, hoping Nathan would get the hint and take off.

But he wasn't buying it.

"So are you okay?" Nathan asked again. "I saw what happened with Lucas."

"How long have you been here?" she demanded.

"Long enough," he answered.

"Yeah, well, I'm fine," she said. "Could be better, you know, if Tree Hill's newest golden couple dropped off the face of the earth, but whatever. I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Nathan said, surprising her. "You've been different lately."

"You've been paying attention to me?" Brooke said with a lifted brow.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I mean, we have had almost every class together since the first grade. And it's not exactly like you're very quiet when you're pissed off about something."

Despite her terrible mood, a small smile twisted up the corners of Brooke's lips. "So maybe I'm blowing off some steam," she said. "That's all there is to it."

"Uh huh," Nathan said, clearly not believing her. But Brooke didn't challenge him on his tone – which left the two of them in an awkward silence as they stood there in front of each other.

For his part, Nathan had completely run out of things to say. It wasn't like he and Brooke were great friends, after all. He wasn't even sure why he had come up to her in the first place. He had just seen her there, hurt (despite her claims to the contrary), and felt some kind of tug. He knew what it was like being caught in the middle of the complicated relationship between Lucas and Peyton.

Brooke was also growing uncomfortable in the silence. She was used to happily gossiping on and on about whatever happened to cross her mind, no matter who she was with. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Nathan was seeing right through her and knew that she was more upset than she had wanted to let on. She was wondering how to extract herself from the conversation in the least obvious manner when Nathan finally spoke up again.

"Lucas is an ass," he offered.

A bark of laughter escaped her, short but genuine. "You've got that right," she said. Her smile faded. "He sure didn't seem like it at first."

"Are you kidding?" Nathan scoffed. "I could see through his act from day one."

"Well, he had me fooled pretty good," Brooke said, more bitter than she had intended.

"He had lots of people fooled," Nathan reminded her gently. "He still has lots of people fooled."

"I guess I had to be one of the unlucky few that got to find out the hard way, huh?" Brooke said, rolling her eyes. "God, I wish I had never met him."

"So do I," Nathan agreed, "but then again, who knows? If he hadn't come along when he did, I might still be with Peyton instead of Haley."

Brooke bristled at Peyton's name, but quickly brushed it off. "You really love her, don't you?" she said shrewdly. "Haley, I mean. Not Peyton."

Nathan turned beet-red. Brooke couldn't help but marvel a bit. It was the first time she had seen him look embarrassed about something other than his father.

"Well, I don't know, I guess," he stammered. "I mean this thing with Haley, it's so different from what I've had with everyone else, you know? Like, when I was with Peyton, that was seriously messed up. We were always tense and on edge, and everything I did was wrong. It was like I was seconds away from stepping on a bombshell all the time."

"And with Haley?" Brooke prompted.

"And with Haley," Nathan shrugged, "I don't know. She's amazing. She expects a lot out of me too, but for once, I don't care. It's like…"

"She makes you want to be a better person," she finished flatly.

"Yeah," Nathan said, brightening up before he saw the expression on Brooke's face. "Hey, listen, Brooke," he said, serious again. "What Lucas did was wrong. You don't have to be better for him. He doesn't deserve it."

"Thanks, Nathan," she mumbled half-heartedly before forcing a teasing grin in order to make light of what was fast becoming an uncomfortably deep conversation. "Who'd of guessed you and me would be capable of a real heart-to-heart?"

"We're not exactly known for that kind of thing," he agreed.

"Especially not with each other," she pointed out.

"I guess we've never really talked that much, huh?" he said thoughtfully, then he grinned. "I guess I just always thought of you as Peyton's drama queen best friend."

"And you were her jackass boyfriend," Brooke went along gamely.

"Gee, thanks," Nathan laughed.

"Well, you were," Brooke shrugged. She was smiling, but both of them knew she was telling the truth.

"And I feel pretty bad about it now," he admitted. "But me and Peyton never clicked. Not really, anyway. Especially when Lucas started popping up more often. I never felt like I could trust her, and that really pissed me off."

"I know the feeling," Brooke said, her smile dampening despite her best efforts.

_Damn,_ Nathan thought. He had meant to steer away from the heavy stuff but somehow they managed to circle back around to it again. "There has got to be better stuff to talk about than this."

"Gotta be," Brooke agreed quickly. Her mind had been in a Lucas-induced rut for days. It was time to stop the madness. "So, how are things going in that new apartment of yours?" she asked after a brief pause. "It must be a blast having your own place."

"I wouldn't know," Nathan said humorlessly. "It's being stolen away for parties practically every night. Mostly I just sleep over at Haley's."

"Ooh," Brooke smirked suggestively, "Gettin' some action, huh Scott?"

To Nathan's embarrassment and Brooke's amusement, he blushed again and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Not exactly."

"Ouch," Brooke mock-winced. "Tutor-girl's not putting out. What a drag."

An image of Haley's open, trusting face entered Nathan's mind, and he shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. She's still a virgin. She wants her first time to be…special."

She raised an inquisitive brow. "So what's that supposed to mean? You're not special enough for her?"

"No, that's not it," Nathan said quickly, but she noted that he looked uncertain. "I guess she just wants to be sure."

"Uh huh," Brooke said slowly. She pasted on a peppy smile. "Well, I'm sure she'll come around eventually. I mean, I did."

Nathan snickered. "Well, no offense or anything, Brooke, but you're not exactly a prude."

"None taken," Brooke said with a smile. "Boys are kind of my specialty."

"Yeah?" he said. "How many?"

She wagged a finger at him. "A lady never kisses and tells."

Nathan chuckled. "Yeah, but the guys do. In the locker room."

Brooke just barely kept herself from blanching at his words. Luckily, she was spared any sort of answer by the bell ringing to signal class change.

"Wonderful," she groaned. "Calculus. Think I'll just skip that one too."

"Hey," Nathan said, "Calc isn't that bad. I'm actually doing pretty good in it."

"Lucky for you," she grumbled.

"I could tutor you if you wanted," Nathan said, serious.

She shook her head, scrunching up her nose. "Thanks but no. Math in school is enough for me. I don't want to even think about it at home."

"Have you ever even opened your book?" he asked.

Brooke appeared to be thinking hard on this. Her face contorted in indecision before her eyes finally lit up. "Once," she said. "There was this really hot guy in a picture working out a problem."

Nathan sighed. "Yeah, that's not a lot to go on. Anyway, I should head out. My next class is across the building.

"Yeah, okay," Brooke said. Suddenly, things had gotten awkward again.

"So, um, the offer for tutoring still stands if you want some help."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," she smiled.

Nathan scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "Well, I could use some extra cash now so…you know, no big deal."

Brooke's face fell. Of course, he had been expecting to be paid. What was she thinking? That he would offer just to be nice? Why? Nathan had a knack for catching her at her bitchiest moments. He probably didn't have the highest opinion of her, just like most of the other people at this school who saw her as a brainless slut. All the locker room talk he was apparently privy to clearly didn't help her case.

"Right, of course," she said. "I'll get back to you on that."

"Okay," Nathan nodded. "See you around."

"Yeah, see you."

Brooke slumped back down in front her computer as soon as he left. She restored the webpage on the screen and began scanning the search results again. But somehow, her head just wasn't in it anymore. She sat in silence for a moment, thinking. She was awfully bored. Maybe she'd go to her next class after all.

Or maybe not.


	2. Slut in a Short Skirt

**She Don't Dream For Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

_The second paragraph, describing the process vacuum aspiration, was taken from the Unplanned Pregnancy Guide website. I take no credit for the research._

**Chapter Two: **Slut in a Short Skirt

After a while, Brooke gave up. She really wasn't in the mood to read anymore about the process of abortion. She had seen about all she could take about the abortion pill, dilation and extraction, and vacuum aspiration. Especially vacuum aspiration.

_This traditional 1st trimester abortion involves three main steps_, the website had said,_ (1) an injection to numb the cervix, (2) insertion of a soft flexible tube through the cervix into the uterus, (3) suction created by a manual aspirator (hand held syringe) or an aspirating machine to remove the uterine contents._

Brooke blanched. They would just suck the baby out of her like sucking up dirt from the floor. It sounded so dirty and wrong. Discouraged, she closed the page and signed off. There had to be another option. There just had to be.

But there wasn't, and she knew it. But if she was going to go through with this, abortion, that is, she wished she could have some support. Someone to stroke her hair and tell her it was all going to be all right. Brooke smiled bitterly. Like that was going to happen. After all, who could she possibly turn to? Who would actually help bitchy Brooke Davis? None of the girls from the cheerleading squad, that was for sure. She had already slept with half of their boyfriends. They'd think she deserved it.

They were really the only people she hung out with though. Except for…well, she had been getting pretty close to tutor-girl lately. _Haley_, she corrected herself sternly, _her name is Haley_. She might be willing to help Brooke through this. After all, she had taken her side when Lucas had been cheating on her. But she was still Lucas's best friend. What if she told?

_She wouldn't_, Brooke decided. Haley wasn't like that. She'd keep her mouth shut.

Brooke stood up and walked out of library feeling brightened already. Haley would help her. Haley would figure out what to do. She was smart.

Smart enough not to get knocked up that is, a snide voice entered Brooke's thoughts as the door shut behind her. She frowned. What if Haley didn't help her? What if she looked down on her for being so stupid? _She won't_, Brooke reassured herself. Haley would help her. Case closed.

The bell rang again. Brooke made a face. Did she really want to go to class? She'd have to if she wanted to attend cheerleading practice later on. It was a school rule that if she didn't go to at least half of her classes, any after school activities were off limits. As tempting as skipping Physics sounded, Brooke didn't want to have miss cheerleading. Lately, she had been throwing everything she had into it. It kept her from thinking about, well, everything. Just as long as she concentrated on her goal of adding both trophies from the upcoming Sparkle Classic competition next year, nothing else mattered.

Would she even be here next year? The thought hit Brooke like a ton of bricks. By next year, the baby would be born. She wouldn't have time for cheerleading. She wouldn't even have time for school, maybe. What was she going to do?

"You're going to have an abortion," Brooke reminded herself quietly, "Stop acting so stupid." Still, she could tell herself what she was going to do a million times, but Brooke didn't really think it would ever sink in that she was actually going to do it. Have the abortion, that is. It just seemed like such a foreign concept, so impossible and strange. Saying she was going to do something and actually doing it were two completely different things.

Brooke opened the door to her Physics class and looked around. She blinked, surprised. The class was full and the teacher was already at the board writing notes. She hadn't even heard the tardy bell ring.

"Miss Davis," her teacher said in a voice dripping with satire, "So nice of you to join us. Please, take a seat."

It took all of Brooke's willpower not to just turn and run away right then and there. Reluctantly, she made her way over to her desk and sat down. She wasn't even in the mood to turn and wink at the cute, new guy behind her like she usually did.

Physics class passed by slow, and her last class, French, passed by even slower. Why had she even signed up for that class anyway? It wasn't like she was going to move to France anytime soon.

As much as she hated to admit it, Brooke really could be a diehard romantic. Once in sixth grade, she had rented a video at the local video store. It had been entirely in French with no subtitles, and Brooke hadn't understood a word of it, but she hadn't minded. She had understood the tone of the video. It had been full of Frenchmen in tuxes whispering sweet nothings into the ears of the fair ladies they loved. Brooke was enraptured by it. French really was the language of love.

Of course, Brooke's feelings about love had soured over the years. She had seen the realities of what it could do to people, herself included, and she had sworn off it. Until Lucas. But she was supposed to be forgetting about him.

At any rate, when the last bell rung, Brooke couldn't have left the room faster. She literally jumped out of her seat and ran, not caring about what anyone thought of her. She raced through the maze of halls as fast as she could to get down to the gym. It really wasn't a great idea in her high heels and all, and Brooke soon found that out as she lost her balance and fell straight into a person coming towards her.

He had a great body, was the first thing that popped into Brooke's mind after the collision. This guy did some serious weight training. He smelled nice too, sort of like a mixture soap, grass, and…wait, was that cheap cologne? Brooke took a quick step back, almost losing her balance again.

"Whoa, there," the person said as he reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her. Slowly, the voice began to register in her muddled mind.

"Nathan?" Brooke said faintly. She started to blush as everything around her came back in focus. "I'm so sorry," she said, her cheeks flaming by now. "I just wasn't paying attention and I was in such a hurry that…"

"It's all right," he laughed. "It's just one of those days. Believe me, I know."

"There's just something about Thursdays," Brooke agreed. She winced. That had sounded so lame.

Nathan seemed oblivious, thankfully. "Yeah, you'll start feeling like normal again tomorrow, just wait and see."

Brooke nodded in reply. She cursed herself mentally for acting so stupid. Would it kill her to actually say something smart? Somehow, despite Nathan's assurances, she suspected there were going to be many more days like this until she started feeling like normal. Everything was too messed up right now.

She glanced up at Nathan. From what she had heard, his life wasn't going so great either. She wondered how he kept it all together. Another whiff of his cheap aftershave hit her. She raised a brow. Maybe he was just better at hiding it than her. If she looked close enough, she could see the beginnings of bags under his eyes, and a sort of stretched, worn look that only came from days on days of little to no sleep.

"So," Nathan said abruptly, breaking the silence. Brooke started and blushed again. She hoped he hadn't noticed her staring at him. At this rate, she wasn't even going to need to buy blush anymore. Her face was constantly red, it seemed like.

"So, I've been thinking about that offer, you know, for tutoring," Brooke began. Nathan looked at her expectantly. Brooke shot him a smile in return, grateful that she could at least fake confidence when she wasn't feeling it. "And I think it's a pretty good idea. I mean, I am pretty close to failing and all. At least if my parents grill me, I can say I tried."

Like her parents would bother to grill her. She'd consider herself lucky if they managed to say good morning to her, if they were even there to say it.

"How close?" Nathan asked.

"What?" Brooke said, confused.

"How close are you to failing?"

"Oh," Brooke said, waving his question off noncommittally. "A few points, I guess. I haven't been there in a while."

"They'll kick you off the cheerleading team, you know," Nathan warned. "It nearly happened to me with basketball."

"Just because I'm almost failing a class?" Brooke said, aghast. "No shit."

"No shit," Nathan echoed. "That's the whole reason I had to get Haley to tutor me in the first place."

"Wow," Brooke said, "That's tough."

"Yeah, so, is it a deal? Do you want me to tutor you?"

"Yeah," Brooke nodded her head vehemently. "I'm not going to be kicked off cheerleading just because I'm having some trouble adding and subtracting."

Nathan laughed. "I sure hope you're having trouble with something a little more complicated than that or else I don't know how much help I can really give you."

"Way to make me feel like a dumb ass, Scott," Brooke laughed too. "I thought carrying numbers over was something everyone had trouble with."

"Oh, I know a ton of first graders who are in the exact same boat as you. Don't worry," Nathan teased.

"Whatever," Brooke grinned. "Anyway, I'm gonna be late for practice. I better go."

"Yeah, I just have to get some extra credit from a teacher and then I have to head down to the gym too," Nathan said.

"Watch out!" Brooke said, amused, "Nathan's getting all smart-guy overachiever on us."

Nathan shrugged helplessly but he was smiling too, "What can I say? Haley's got too much of an influence."

"I'll say. It takes a lot of work to get your lazy ass up to do anything."

"Hey!" Nathan said with a laugh, "I resent that."

"I was only telling it like it is," Brooke taunted, reaching out and poking him in the rib playfully. "So anyway, I really have to go now."

"I'll see you down at the gym," Nathan said.

"I'll be the one in the black shorts that look really sexy on her," Brooke smiled mischievously.

"The ones that may have fit you in like sixth grade?" Nathan asked.

"You noticed?"

He groaned, "What guy hasn't, Brooke? We've all gotten in trouble at least twice for not keeping our heads in practice when you're wearing those."

"Then they're working exactly like I wanted them to," Brooke said smugly. "See ya, Nathan."

Nathan waved and walked off, shaking his head. Unless she was imagining things, he was walking a little quicker to get to practice.

Brooke smiled. It had started off awkward, but she had actually enjoyed talking to Nathan just now. It was fun. Maybe being tutored wouldn't be so bad after all. She had always thought he was kind of cute…

_But he's with Haley_, she reminded herself. And right now, Haley was sort of her friend. Her only friend. So it wasn't like she could go around hitting on Nathan. Somehow, she thought wryly, it seemed like that would be a pretty shitty thing to do. She opened the door to the girls' locker room to change and immediately saw Peyton kneeling over to tie the laces on her tennis shoes.

"Speaking of shitty," Brooke mumbled under her breath. Peyton glanced up but didn't give any other indication that she might have heard her.

Brooke changed as fast as she could. Her black shorts, as promised, soon fit snugly on her hips with a white tank top to match. She threw her hair up in a messy ponytail and jammed her feet into shiny white sneakers and headed out into the gym.

"Okay, girls!" she yelled and clapped her hands as soon as she walked in, catching the attention of the boys as well. Just as Nathan had promised, a few seconds later Tim was hit in the head by the basketball and yelled at accordingly by Whitey.

"Get your head in the game!"

"Sorry, coach…"

Brooke smirked. She had always rather liked these shorts.

"Stretches, now," she directed her squad, starting off with a round of toe-touches. To her satisfaction, she heard a low whistle as a straggling member of the basketball team ran by. Brooke turned and winked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Peyton look at her with something that resembled annoyance. Brooke didn't care. At least she hadn't gone and stolen her best friend's boyfriend.

"Okay, you guys, I've been thinking. We don't have nearly as many stunts going on at halftime as we should. The Bear Creek Warriors rode all over our asses with pyramids and flips at the competition. Let's prove to everyone we're not just a bunch of sluts in short skirts."

"Even though some of us really are," Theresa mumbled under her breath.

"What was that, Theresa?" Brooke snapped. "Save the bullshit, and say whatever it is to my face if you've got a problem."

Theresa just stood there and silently fumed.

"Well?" Brooke said impatiently. Theresa had been bitter towards Brooke ever since the competition when Brooke had slammed her with insult after insult. It wasn't really anything personal, besides the fact that Theresa was, in fact, always a step behind, and Brooke had already been stressed about the contest, the baby, and Lucas and Peyton.

"Nothing," Theresa murmured bitterly.

"That's what I thought," Brooke said. "Now, unless anyone else has something to bitch about, let's get started. Who knows how to do a back handspring?"

Overall, Brooke thought, the practice was going pretty well. Most of the girls could do at least do back handspring and a surprising amount were pretty good at back flips. Towards the end, Brooke clapped her hands and grinned and called in her team for a meeting.

"We're totally going to have to rework our cheers, but it'll definitely be worth it," she said. Excited murmurs of agreement spread around her. "So," she said in a voice louder than usual to catch their attention, "who's ready to do a little bit of showing off?"

The rest of the girls shrieked in excitement, "Let's do it!" they whispered loudly and sent eager expressions over in the direction of the boys practicing across the gym.

"Okay," Brooke said. "Shari, put the CD in and turn it up _loud_." Shari nodded and giggled, setting off to do as instructed. "Now, Tanya and Bevin," she continued, picking out the two best gymnasts of the group, "go over to the other side of the out-of-bounds line, and follow my lead."

"Ready, Brooke?" Shari yelled, holding up a portable radio in one hand.

"Ready!" Brooke yelled back. Shari pushed the play button and turned the volume to the max, letting the beat of the music bounce off the walls of the gym.

"One, two," Brooke counted off with the beat, "One, two, three, four!" She started sprinting and about midway down she began a complicated set of cartwheels and handsprings. She would need all the momentum she could get for her flip. Brooke wasn't the type of person who could just do a back flip without a second thought. This would take some work on her part.

_Closer, closer_, she thought while she let her energy rise. She knew everybody's eyes were on her. _Jump!_

She twisted her body back and let her legs sail over her head. Yes! She had it! It was working out perfectly. With her peripheral vision, she could see Tanya and Bevin having similar successes across the court. Because of this, she wasn't paying as much attention as she should have to her landing. Brooke didn't quite fall, but there was some obvious shakiness as she stumbled back. Meanwhile, the other two executed their back flips flawlessly.

Brooke's cheeks burned with embarrassment. The fundamental aspect of flipping was the landing! Everybody knew that. So why did she have to go and foul it up? But everybody around her was cheering, and most of the guys were hooting and whistling, so why was she so upset?

Maybe it wasn't as obvious as she had thought, Brooke decided, glancing around her. She began to feel more at ease and blew a kiss at them.

"Go, Brooke!" they yelled.

She strutted back across the gym, ignoring the glare Whitey was burning into her back. On her way, she passed Nathan. "Hey," she smiled and raised her hand up to wave.

To her disappointment and surprise, he merely grunted something unintelligible and averted his eyes. What was that about? Brooke's smile faded from her face, and she felt her good mood quickly leaving her. There was nothing worse than being obviously dissed in front of tons of people. "Okay, you guys," she barked at her cheerleaders. "Fun's over. Let's get back to work!" Her eyes narrowed on Theresa.

"Theresa, put that chocolate away! Your uniform is already too tight."

And this was how most of rest of practice was spent. Last minute, Brooke decided that the cheerleaders would figure out a new routine together to save her all the trouble, and she kept them long after basketball practice was over. Finally, when everything was to her liking, she dismissed everybody with a warning that, if they didn't work on their flips, she would personally see to it that their asses would be kicked.

Even though she made a special note not to think anything about it, Brooke did notice Lucas was the only one from the basketball team still in there working on his free throw. He had been working so hard since the accident to get his shot back, but so far, none of them were sinking. She felt a twinge of…nothing, Brooke reprimanded herself vehemently. She wasn't supposed to feel anything for Lucas Scott.

And just to enforce that thought, Brooke left the gym right then and there without another glance back. _There_, she thought, satisfied with herself, _Lucas is just another person from now on. Just another ordinary, insignificant person. The only reason I'll ever have to see him is during cheer…crap!_ She had forgotten the routine CD back in the gym!

Brooke groaned with reluctance, but already, all thoughts of forgetting about Lucas had vanished. _Maybe he'll try and plead with me_, she smirked. _Maybe he'll tell me how beautiful I am, and how he can't believe what an awful mistake he made. Maybe…_

Brooke opened the door. The scene before her sent her reeling with shock and disappointment.

_Maybe he'll be talking to Peyton._


	3. She's Knocked Up

**She Don't Dream For Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Three: **She's Knocked Up

The familiar burning feeling in the pit of her stomach associated with seeing Lucas and Peyton together washed over Brooke. Peyton had her hands all over him, and they were smiling at each other. It looked like they were flirting. Typical. It was enough to make Brooke sick.

**(1)** "You know I'd tell you two to get a room, but then you've already done that," she said bitterly. Both their heads snapped up in her direction, and she glared at them. She shook her head in disgust. Unable to stand the sight any longer, Brooke grabbed the cheering CD she had came for and walked back out the door.

_They're so disgusting_, Brooke thought as she stormed down the hall. _They're always acting so lovey-dovey. Cheating little backstabbers…they deserve each other_. The sound of a door opening behind her broke into her thoughts, and Brooke paused momentarily.

"Brooke!" It was Peyton. Brooke began walking again.

"Brooke, we got to stop doing this," Peyton said. She sounded a lot closer now.

"Fine," Brooke snapped. Even the sound of Peyton's voice made her angry now. "I'll stop talking to you, and you can definitely stop talking to me."

Peyton sighed. "Okay. I mean, we're not really friends anymore, are we?"

Brooke wouldn't admit it, but at that moment, all she wanted to do was give in and accept Peyton's apologies. She wanted her best friend back. Except every time she looked at Peyton, she saw the scene on the webcam all over again. Peyton and Lucas making out while Brooke and Lucas were still together. Slut. "You know," she said instead, "for a fake blonde you catch on slow."

"All right," Peyton said, defeated, "I tried apologizing to you, and I'm done trying now."

"Good," Brook spat, "I mean, it's really pretty pathetic."

"Fine, if that's what you want. Fine," Peyton said. She turned on her heel and walked away. **(end 1)**

Brooke finally turned in the direction Peyton had left in. She couldn't help but feel disappointed. That was it? Peyton was done? Tears sprung to her eyes and blurred her vision. How could she? How could she just give up on her like that? If Brooke would've been in Peyton's place, she would have never given up. She would've begged and pleaded and apologized until she got laryngitis from speaking too much.

_Actually_, she reminded herself, _you would've never been in Peyton's position in the first place_. Other girls boyfriends, a little wrong, but still not a big deal, but a best friend's boyfriend…he was off limits. Completely. Brooke would never be stupid enough to jeopardize a friendship like that. Especially if he was the father of her best friend's baby. But then again, Peyton didn't know that. Nobody did.

It still didn't make what Peyton did any better. It made Brooke so mad. Everybody made light of what Lucas did. Nobody seemed to understand just how hard it hit her. After all, she was Brooke, the slut. How much could it possibly hurt?

A lot, actually. Lucas was the first person she ever let herself really love. Oh, she had tried before with her mom and her dad, but it was hard to love people who were never there. And a bunch of other guys, she had told herself she loved them to try and fill a void, but she had never really felt it. Not till Lucas. He turned out to be a real winner.

Brooke tossed her hair. She was in the mood for a shopping trip. Maybe that could take her mind off things. She needed some new shoes. She had broken the heel on her white ones while on a date with…_Do not think of Lucas_, she instructed herself…_or Peyton_. It was coming to a point of obsession with her. She had to stop. Not like earlier when she told herself to stop thinking about it and a few seconds later started imagining herself in Lucas's arms. This was for real. Honestly.

She opened her car door and got in. It was time to start living again. Brooke rummaged around her purse for her keys and smiled triumphantly when she found them. "Gotcha," she smirked. She stuck them in the ignition and revved up her car. Some god-awful techno music spilled out of her radio.

"What have I been listening to?" Brooke gasped, horrified. She must have been more out of it than she thought. She quickly punched in one of her presets and relaxed when familiar music began playing. It was a sugary, pop song, yes, and normally, Brooke liked her music with a little more edge, but right now, it was the perfect song to lighten her mood. She cranked up the volume and rolled down the windows. It was a beautiful day, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to finally enjoy it.

"All I have to do is think of me, and I have peace of mind. I'm tired of looking 'round rooms wondering what I gotta do, or who I'm supposed to be…" Brooke sang along as she drove through the streets. The sugar sweet song had ended a while ago, and now, Brooke was enjoying a song by a singer that had come through town once, Gavin Degraw. He was pretty good.

Her smooth drive was interrupted by the only red light she had come across so far, but it didn't matter. The guy who drove up beside her was seriously hot. She didn't even recognize him as the same person she had cursed at that very morning. She motioned for him to roll down his window, and he did.

"Hey, cutie," she said with a wink.

He obviously didn't remember her either. "Hey. I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you before," he smiled back. Wow, his teeth were _white_. Almost blindingly so.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to fix that, won't we?" she said. "Brooke Davis. And you are?"

"Jeremy Ronz," he said. "Where ya headed?"

"The mall," she said. She flashed him a suggestive smile. "What a coincidence, right?"

"I'll say," Jeremy nodded, catching on, "I was just headed there myself."

"I thought so," Brooke said matter-of-factly. She saw the light turn green out of the corner of her eye. "Catch ya there, boy-toy." She shot him her classic peppy Brooke smile and drove off.

_This should be fun_, she thought, driving just a little faster to reach her destination. The guy had shaggy blonde hair with puppy brown eyes and a tall, broad build. He was seriously Abercrombie material. Not like that lame loser high-schooler pretending to be a college student at that party she had gone to a couple months ago. No, this guy was the real thing. He had to be at least twenty-two.

Brooke checked her rearview mirror and saw Jeremy shoot another blinding smile at her. She smirked. "Today, Mr. Ronz, is your lucky day. You're all mine."

Twenty minutes later, in the Express dressing room, Brooke's prediction proved correct. Perturbed passersby heard banging and moans from the dressing room two doors from the left. One seventy-six year old lady was so horrified she summoned mall security.

"Excuse me," a tall, burly man knocked on the door. His face was stern and his tone left no room for argument. "This is mall security. I'm going to have to ask that you please exit the store."

Brooke groaned into Jeremy's half bare chest with frustration. They hadn't been doing anything terribly wrong. Just a little bit of kissing…and, okay, there was a little groping going on too. Still. Why couldn't people just mind their own business? Reluctantly, she retrieved her black blouse from the floor. She was halfway done buttoning it when the security man got fed up with waiting and unlocked the door with a key from the key ring on his belt. Instead of turning away in embarrassment or at least pretending he didn't see her halfway exposed breasts, he simply stared at Brooke in distaste.

"You both need to leave now," he ordered.

"But I wasn't done trying stuff on," Brooke pouted.

"Now!" he yelled.

Brooke looked shocked. "Fine," she hissed and stomped past him out of the store, dragging Jeremy along behind her. "I won't be shopping there anymore," she said as she looked back at the entrance after finishing buttoning up the last few buttons on her shirt.

"I know, right?" Jeremy said. "That totally sucked."

A devious gleam entered Brooke's eyes. "Want to try it in the Gap?"

Jeremy grinned. "Definitely. But how about we go and get a few drinks first?"

Brooke hesitated. She had heard alcohol was bad for pregnant women. Besides, what if they decided to card her? She didn't have her fake I.D. with her right then. Normally, that wouldn't have really have been considered as a problem for her, but with the baby, well, it seemed like everything was a problem.

"What's wrong?" Jeremy joked, noticing her hesitation. "Are you, like, knocked up or something?"

Her eyes widened. "No!" she cried without thinking. Brooke regretted it instantly. She had said it too fast, too desperate. Any idiot could've seen through it. What was worse is that he had just been joking around too. She had had no reason to get so riled up.

He sent her a wary look. "Okay," he said slowly, backing away. His eyes scanned the vicinity around them before landing on a buxom, curly-haired blonde with wide brown eyes. Brooke scowled. She was like Peyton with a C cup. "I just remembered about something, umm, something I gotta do," Jeremy said vaguely. He all but ran over to the Peyton look-alike.

Brooke sighed. Guys always ran when it came to dealing with any sort of responsibility. Always. They just couldn't handle it. It was like a mental overload for their tiny little brains.

Feeling her good mood quickly dissipating, Brooke headed in the direction of the food court. She was in serious need of a two-scoop chocolate ice cream with cookie dough. She hadn't let herself have one in a while, due to the high calorie content, but she deserved it after today.

Once she reached the food court, however, Brooke's attention was diverted to the cute little pretzel stand not far away. She looked back and forth between the Bruster's and the pretzel stand longingly until she started walking in the latter direction. She hadn't had a soft pretzel in a while either, and they were bound to be healthier, right?

Upon arrival, Brooke was greeted with a monotone, "Hello, what sort of pretzel would you like? We have plain, extra salt, or cinnamon." To her surprise, she recognized the voice.

"Nathan?" she gasped.

"Brooke?" Nathan said, just as shocked. His head shot up.

Brooke tried not to laugh. "Nice job you got here," she teased.

"I need it to help pay for my apartment," he explained with a shrug.

"Oh," Brooke said. She studied him carefully. "So this is what it's like going from daddy's boy to rebel without a home."

"Haha," Nathan said dryly. "Why are you here anyway?"

"Why else?" Brooke said in a "duh" voice and rolled her eyes. "To shop, of course." Before Nathan could retort, she continued, "But my shopping buddy ditched me, and I'm low on money, so I'm thinking you can join me. We can head over to the shoe department where I'll find a killer sale, and if I don't, I flirt with the cashier until he gives me a killer sale, and then we'll head back over here to the food court where you'll buy me a totally healthy salad, so I can still walk in my new heels without breaking them, and then you can resume working at your little stand again but not until after I ditch the healthy plan and you give me a cinnamon pretzel on the house." She flashed him a big smile. "What do you think?"

Nathan grinned, "That sounds like a…"

All of the sudden, a short, snotty-looking kid stepped up. "Scott," he barked, "I thought I told you to get to work!"

"I have been working," Nathan said, annoyed. "And now, I'm on break."

"No, you're not," the kid threatened. Brooke thought she recognized him from around school somewhere. "Not unless you want to get fired." He stormed off, muttering to himself about incompetent workers.

"Sorry," Nathan said and turned back to Brooke. "I'm going to have to take a rain check on that. My boss is such a hard ass."

"I noticed," Brooke said. "What's his problem anyway?"

Nathan winced. "Apparently, me and some other guys from the basketball team beat him up awhile ago, and he's still got some hard feelings about it."

"I'll say," Brooke said. She frowned. "So I guess this means I'm shopping all alone."

"Guess so," Nathan said, "but if you're quiet about it, I could still sneak you that free cinnamon pretzel."

Brooke shook her head. "Thanks, but no. It just won't be the same."

"Don't even try that guilt shit on me, Brooke," Nathan groaned. "This job is bad enough as it is."

"Fine," Brooke sulked. "I don't need you there anyway. You probably don't even have very good taste in shoes."

"You're probably right," Nathan agreed. "I'm sure you'll find someone who's much better at shopping than me."

"Okay, then," Brooke sighed. "I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see you around," Nathan echoed.

Brooke turned on her heel and walked in the direction of the shoe department. She was too depressed about shopping alone to notice Nathan's eyes following her.

_I'll probably find something awesome_, Brooke thought to cheer herself up. _Maybe those red shoes I've been dying to have are on sale now. I'm sure they are_. It was a shallow attempt, but it was working. A smile was already forming at the corner of her lips at the thought of a new pair of heels.

When Brooke arrived at the shoe department, she found that the shoes she had been dying for had indeed gone on sale. It was just her luck, however, that her size had run out.

"We can put in a special order for you, miss," an overly eager saleslady offered.

"Don't bother," Brooke grumbled. "I'll probably come back soon anyway."

"If you're sure…" the saleslady—Brenda, her nametag said—trailed off dubiously.

"I'm positive," Brooke snapped.

Brenda looked affronted. It was with obvious effort that she forced a twisted smile onto her face and said in a barely cheerily masked voice, "All righty, then. Have a nice day!"

"Yeah, whatever, you too," Brooke said and hurried out of the store. Brenda looked like she was about to shoot her.

Her stomach rumbled as she walked. Brooke was suddenly reminded why she had gone to the food court the first time. "God, I've gotta get something to eat," she said to herself. "I'm starving." She came up on the food court again and looked around. Her gaze briefly paused on the pretzel stand.

_Nathan did promise me a free_ _pretzel…_she thought. But then again, he was probably just saying that to be nice. She'd look pretty pitiful crawling back over there by herself. So the pretzel was out. She began scanning again. There was that new place, Wrap It Up, that served almost anything you could want in a wrap and was supposed to be very healthy. It would be the smart choice. But Brooke didn't really care about being healthy right now. She was _hungry_.

Her eyes fell on a McDonalds. _Perfect_, she thought, _exactly what I need_. She strode over there quickly. "One quarter-pounder, lots of ketchup, large fries, an apple pie, and a coke," she ordered as soon as she reached the counter.

"Whoa, there," a fat, middle-aged woman with frizzy fake-black hair laughed, "save some for the rest of the county." Brooke just glared at her. The woman looked abashed and rung up her order. "Will that be all, miss?" she asked, considerably less confident.

"Yes," Brooke snapped. The cashier flinched.

A few seconds were spent in silence waiting for Brooke's order to be brought up from the back in which Brooke alternated between glaring at the rude woman in front of her and a chipped nail. She could tell the woman was becoming increasingly more nervous. The woman smiled weakly back at Brooke and glanced back in desperation at the kitchen. "One minute, miss," she said to Brooke. She walked back and hissed at the other workers, "What's taking so long back there?"

"Sorry," a voice squeaked, "the apple pie filling kind of blew up."

"Kind of blew up?" the woman repeated incredulously. She swallowed and walked back up to Brooke. "I'm sorry, but…"

"Just get me an ice cream cone, then," Brooke said impatiently.

"Of course, miss, on the house," the woman said. Finally, Brooke's order arrived on the counter. "Thank you for coming to McDonalds," the woman chirped automatically. "Have a happy day."

Brooke grumbled under her breath. Was everybody in this mall paid to say that or something? She wasn't going to obsess about it though. She was going to eat. Brooke quickly found an empty, relatively clean table and spread out her food. "I deserve this," she said, eyeing her burger appreciatively. Eagerly, she took a huge bite.

Not far away, Nathan still had his eyes on Brooke while he pretended to be fixing the napkin dispenser. He was kind of disappointed. He thought she might have stopped by for a pretzel like he invited her to earlier. Instead, there she was, preferring to be all alone eating a burger over hanging out with him. He studied her more closely.

Actually, eating wasn't quite the right word. She was _attacking _it.

"She's so fucking hot," a wistful-sounding voice beside him spoke up. Nathan jumped, surprised. "Sorry, man," the stranger said, clapping a hand on Nathan's back, "but I noticed you checking out that girl in the black over there, right?"

Nathan turned bright red and began to stammer. "Oh, it's nothing like that. I have a…a…" _A girlfriend, you idiot_, he berated himself, _a girlfriend_.

The stranger continued on as if he hadn't heard Nathan. He raked a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "I was this close to scoring with her in a dressing room earlier." He shook his head. "Too bad she's already knocked up."

Nathan dropped the napkin dispenser with a clatter on the floor. "She's _what_?"

The guy looked faintly surprised at his reaction. "She's knocked up. You know, pregnant?"

"I know what knocked up means," Nathan said impatiently. "She's just not the kind of girl that would happen to, that's all."

"I didn't think she would be either," the guy shrugged. He squinted his eyes at Nathan suspiciously. "Do you, like, know her or something?"

"Or something," Nathan said faintly. Brooke…pregnant? That was impossible. Right?

"Whatever, man," the stranger shook his head. "I have to go. I got a girl waiting for me." He winked and gestured over to a curly blonde that looked like a stacked version of Peyton. Nathan barely noticed her.

"See ya," he said vaguely in the guy's direction. He didn't even take his eyes off Brooke. A few seconds later, his boss came up behind him, looking very unhappy.

"Did I just see you driving a potential customer away?" he hissed in Nathan's ear.

"So what if I did?" Nathan replied, annoyed. He was so sick of his boss always getting on his case.

"So, now you're working overtime tonight without pay," he said nastily. Before Nathan could protest he continued, "That is, if you want to keep your job." He gave Nathan a distasteful once-over. "And pick up that napkin dispenser."

Nathan gritted his teeth to keep from saying anything else he might regret and kneeled to pick up the dispenser that was now even more broken than before after being dropped. Once his boss had his back turned, Nathan flipped him off. If only he could risk doing that while he was looking. He sure wanted to.

He straightened back up and immediately sought Brooke out again. He stared at her flat stomach uneasily. That guy had to be bluffing, right? Then he brought his gaze back up to where Brooke was happily stuffing her face with fries by the fistful. He shook his head to try and collect his bearings.

"Oh, man," he whispered.

(1)…(end 1)** Scene taken from **_**One Tree Hill **_**episode "What Is And What Never Should Be"**


	4. Looking Like a Crush

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Four: **Looking Like a Crush

Brooke arrived home later that night and fell back on her bed with a groan. She had spent her whole afternoon at the mall without buying a single thing, _and_ she had a killer stomachache. After eating all that food, she had ended up going back to Express to browse afterwards, but she had been so bloated that all of her usual sizes looked like shit on her.

She moaned again. "What was I thinking?" she said. That quarter-pounder was going to make her gain at least ten pounds. She knew she was pregnant, but did she really have to look the part? Especially since she probably wouldn't be pregnant for much longer. All she had to do was find one of those free clinics.

Brooke eventually heaved herself up. She unbuttoned her jeans and took off her shirt and walked over to her dresser in the dark to change into an oversized shirt to sleep in. Despite the fact that it was almost pitch-black, Brooke navigated herself around safely, avoiding the legs of her nightstand and her Algebra book lying right in the middle of her floor and finding her way back to her bad unharmed. She was used to being alone in the dark. When she was little, Brooke remembered how so many of her friends were scared of the monsters that lurked in the shadows. During sleepovers, they would all call for their parents to come chase them out.

Brooke didn't need any help chasing out the monsters. They knew better than to mess with her.

Brooke smiled at the memory as she shut her eyes. She was a girly-girl but she had always been tough. She could get through this. Who needed Lucas or Peyton or her absentee parents? Brooke certainly didn't.

But all those years of fighting the monsters by herself had gotten awful lonely. She could use someone to help her every now and then. Not someone like Haley, she was just a friend. Brooke wanted someone who would care more about her. Who could even, maybe, possibly love her. Someone like…

"Nathan," Brooke murmured sleepily. Her eyes shot wide open. Had she actually said that? Where did that come from? Her and Nathan Scott, the idea of it was ridiculous enough to laugh at. He was so far gone on Haley they were practically married. There was no way she would ever have a shot at him. She didn't even want one. Case closed.

But, maybe, a rebellious voice in her head reasoned, maybe she wanted someone like him. Nathan was hot, determined and talented, and now that he had cleaned his act up, he was actually kind of sweet. What was there not to like?

"Careful, Brooke," she told herself. "If you don't stop this, it's going to start looking like you have a crush on him or something."

Brooke laughed and turned over on her side. She shook her head slowly as she began drifting off to sleep. As if _that _would ever happen…

Brooke had a relatively calm sleep that night. When she woke up that morning, she felt more rested than she had in weeks, and for once, she was actually on time. She couldn't put her finger on it, but somehow, no matter how miserable yesterday had been, she felt more at peace with herself and the rest of the world. She must have finally gotten all that jerky guys, shitty life stuff out of her system. She had had it with people like Jeremy Ronz. Today, she was starting out on a campaign to find some decent boys at her school. Maybe she'd even give Mouth a chance.

She chuckled. Maybe not.

Mouth was cute, but who said nice guys couldn't be _hot_? Like Nat—there was that name again. _Time to stop, Brooke, _she admonished herself. She couldn't finish obsessing about one Scott brother and then start with another. Especially if she didn't even like the other.

She retouched her lip gloss and threw on a pair of dark brown sunglasses on her face to match a form-fitting, yellow and brown sundress. It wasn't exactly the right time of the year to wear it, but Brooke hadn't made a reputation for herself by following all the rules. It was hot out today, and she was going to take advantage of it.

Sauntering out to her car, Brooke checked her watch just to make sure that, yes, she was at least ten minutes early. Not long after, encountering unusually light traffic, she pulled into the school parking lot. The burnouts hadn't even lit up yet. One of them glanced up at her, surprised.

"You can't expect me to be late every day," Brooke told him.

The guy shrugged. He peered at her shyly through dreadlocked black hair. "I was sort of hoping you'd just give up and join us," he said.

Brooke smiled. "I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain-check on that," she said, "Right now, I've got to get to class."

When Brooke walked in, the class was only half-full. She could've sworn Mr. Nicholson did a double-take when he saw her. She smirked and plopped into her seat. Nathan looked at her askew. "What?" she asked innocently.

"You're here," Nathan said.

Brooke nodded slowly. "Yeah, unless I've got things seriously mixed up, I'm pretty sure this is my first class."

"You're here _early_," Nathan said, as if this explained everything. Which it did, but Brooke wouldn't admit that.

"Maybe I like learning," Brooke said.

Nathan snorted. "Maybe you just pulled that out of your ass. What's the deal, Brooke?"

She shrugged and smiled. "I just had a good morning, that's all."

"Oh," Nathan said. What was that supposed to mean? Did she find out she wasn't pregnant or something? Had she ever really thought that in the first place, or had that guy last night just made everything up? If he did, why? Nathan's eyes traveled down her tight dress. He swallowed, hard. She certainly didn't _look _pregnant.

"Are you checking me out, Nathan Scott?" Brooke said, breaking into his thoughts.

"No!" Nathan said in a hurry, tearing his eyes away from Brooke's body and up to her eyes. He blushed. His heated denial did him no good. The truth of the matter was he had been checking her out, and they both knew it.

"It's okay," Brooke lowered her voice flirtatiously. "Happens all the time." She turned back around in her seat and began scribbling yesterday's notes out of her book.

Nathan stared at her for a while after, his eyes wide. Brooke definitely could not be pregnant. Pregnant girls just didn't act that hot. Wait, did he think she was hot? No way. Well, yes, he did, but he had Haley. He wasn't blind though. Brooke was hot. Very hot. But why should he even be thinking about this when he already had a girlfriend? It was wrong, wasn't it? It was like, psychologically cheating.

Nathan scoffed. So what? It wasn't like he had actually done anything wrong, unless you were judging on a psychological sense, but face it. Who actually did that? Still, it sort of bothered him just how much he was noticing, and liking, the bare expanse of Brooke's tanned legs in front of him. Her dress only reached down to mid-thigh, and when she sat down it inched up even further. Right now, it was at the point of being unbearably teasing. Nathan, along with half the other guys in the room, couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Hey, baby," Haley came out of nowhere and sat on his desk.

"Haley!" Nathan exclaimed. He quickly averted his eyes away. "What are you doing here?"

Haley looked confused. "Just coming to say hi," she said. She brushed away the confusion and smiled. "I missed you last night. As much as I've complained about you sneaking in, I actually got kind of lonely without anyone to share my room with."

"Nobody had any parties scheduled last night," Nathan said. "It was nice to finally be able to crash at my own place."

"Oh," Haley said. She fell silent for a moment before brightening up, "Well, plans for our party are going great. Just like we said, small but still enough to have some fun."

"Great," Nathan said. He forced a smile. For some reason, he felt edgy, almost guilty around her. He couldn't stand it. "Haley, the bell's going to ring any second now."

Haley cocked her head to the side. "Are you trying to get me to go away?" she asked. Her voice sounded slightly hurt.

"No, it's nothing like that," Nathan said hurriedly. "I just don't want you to get in trouble."

"Mr. Nicholson won't care," she insisted.

"Haley…" Nathan said firmly.

"Okay," she said uncertainly. She hopped off his desk. "Let me know when you decide to stop being so weird."

"It's just your good influence," Nathan called after her with a weak smile.

She glanced back at him. From the looks of it, she seemed satisfied enough with that. "I'm glad some of it's finally starting to have an affect on you."

"What was that about?" Brooke murmured quietly as she continued to copy down her notes, not even glancing back to look at him.

"What was what about?" Nathan asked irritably.

"You just totally brushed tutor-girl off." Before he had the chance to deny, she continued. "Don't even tell me it's not true. I know a brush-off when I see it."

"And you were listening in on a conversation that was none of your business," Nathan concluded.

"It's a useful habit," Brooke said. "You should pick it up."

"I'm not nosy," he told her.

"It never hurts to pick up on some information every now and then," Brooke shrugged. "Example: Did you know that that month Bevin said she was spending with her sick grandmother, she was really at a halfway house?"

"That _is_ interesting," Nathan agreed. His voice went flat. "Too bad I don't care."

"You should," Brooke replied, unperturbed. "That was about the time she was going out with you, and she claimed that you were the one that influenced her into taking all that stuff."

"What?" Nathan exclaimed. He was known for being a Class-A jerk to most, but when it came to most drugs, his reputation was pretty clean. His one slip-up when he had taken steroids had almost cost him his spot on the team. That wasn't something that was going to happen again.

"Exactly," Brooke said smugly. "You should pay more attention. Why did you think so many of the nice girls were turned off by you then?"

Nathan sighed. He hated it when Brooke had a point, especially one that proved him wrong. Luckily, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class, and saved him from admitting she was right.

Unluckily, she knew how much he appreciated the bell at that moment too. "That sure saved your ass, Scott," she whispered as Mr. Nicholson began to speak. Nathan made a face at her. Of course, it was useless since she wasn't even looking at him.

"Today, class, I've decided we're going to work on essays. I'd like you all to write a report on the most important person in your life due by Friday of next week…"

The rest of class was devoted to planning and discussing ideas for the essay. Brooke couldn't wait to get the hell out of there when the bell rang. She had exactly two words written on her paper: Brooke Davis.

Honestly, where did teachers get these stupid ideas from? Who was the most important person in Brooke's life? She was, of course. What did they expect? Some mushy garbage about parents or a boyfriend? Brooke didn't have any of those. Not really.

But, for now, she was content with what she did have, no matter how shallow they were. She had money, she had a killer fashion sense, and she had the admiration of almost everyone else at this school. People would fall over themselves to talk to Brooke Davis. She was the closest thing they had to royalty. In the halls, crowds would literally separate to make way for her.

Except for one person.

"Peyton," Brooke said coldly as she stopped before her former best friend.

"Brooke," Peyton replied, just as cold.

Brooke glared at her. "You're in my way. Move."

"Gladly," Peyton sniped back sarcastically. "Anything for Queen Brooke."

"Watch it," Brooke warned her.

"Or what? You'll send a castle guard after me?" Peyton shook her head. "God, Brooke. Get over yourself."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're such a two-timing bitch, Peyton."

"And you're a dirtyslut, but you don't see me getting on you about that every chance I get."

Brooke took a step back as if she'd been slapped. Her expression hardened. "I've heard that one before. Tell me something I don't know."

Peyton glared back at her in frustration. "You're impossible. I can't see how so many people can put up with you."

"Probably because they know I won't cheat with their boyfriends and then lie about it."

"You seriously need to let that go."

"And you seriously need to shut up, and get out of my way," Brooke snapped. She pushed past Peyton. As weird as it sounded, that actually felt sort of satisfying. She was tired of Peyton groveling while she attacked her. It was about time she went up against Peyton while Peyton was actually putting up a fight.

As for the rest of the school day, it passed by fairly quickly with nothing of any real importance occurring. Brooke attended Algebra in the sense that she actually went, but her head was somewhere else entirely. Whenever the teacher called on her, she didn't even bother to try and pick up on what had been asked. She was perfectly content to just give the answer "four" every single time. It was an improvement though, in the eyes of most. Usually she wasn't even there to give a totally bullshit answer.

At lunch, she made her way out to the courtyard where she came across no other than one of the people she wanted to see most. Haley James. This would be where Brooke pulled her aside for a serious heart-to-heart, and Haley would be understanding and supportive, and they would all live happily ever after. Brooke would have a real friend for once that would be sure not to hurt her. It would be Tigger and Tutor-girl against the big, bad world and all the jerky, obnoxious guys that came with it. Brooke grinned. It might be nice.

**(1)** Haley was already talking to two other girls when Brooke walked up behind her. "Oh, hey, our lips are sealed," a girl was saying, Brooke vaguely recognized her from her Chemistry class. Her name was Megan. "Thanks for the invite, Haley," she continued. "You rock."

"Sure," Haley grinned back. Megan and her friend giggled at each other and Haley one more time before walking off, chattering excitedly.

Brooke's eyes gleamed. She knew plans for a party when she heard them. She grinned in anticipation. It had been a while since she had been to a good party. This was great. It would also be a killer chance for her and Haley to talk and hang out some more and develop some trust before Brooke spilled her guts.

"Hi, friend," she said perkily as she bounced into Haley's view.

"Hey, Brooke," Haley said with a patient smile.

"So, when's the party?" Brooke asked.

Haley's face fell. That was odd. Brooke felt a twinge of apprehension. "Well, it's Saturday night, but--"

Brooke suddenly realized what Haley must have been so worried about. Before leaving, the other two girls swore secrecy. This was a Haley James party after all. She was obviously trying to keep it small. "Don't worry," Brooke reassured her, "I'm not going to tip off the paparazzi."

Haley bit her lip. How was she going to break this to Brooke nicely? "Oh, no, I'm not worried. We're just trying to keep it small. So." She cut off abruptly, not knowing what else to say.

Reality hit Brooke like a ton of bricks. Haley wasn't worried that Brooke was going to paste fliers around the school. Haley was worried about Brooke, Peyton, and Lucas being in the same room. And if her instincts were right, one of the two had requested that Brooke didn't make an appearance. "Peyton said not to invite me," Brooke said. Her voice was touched with anger and disappointment.

"No, she didn't," Haley said weakly, "not exactly."

Disappointment gave way to fury. Fury that Lucas and Peyton still got whatever the hell they wanted, while Brooke was being deprived of everything. Even Haley, the girl that was supposed to be on her side, was swept up in the two blondies' charm. "All right," Brooke said bitterly. "You know, have your little party, and play your naked twister, and--"

Haley sighed. She really did feel bad about this. She had always sort of admired Brooke's spunk and perkiness. But she couldn't do that to her best friend, force him into a room with his bitter ex. Besides, she didn't want her first real party to turn into some catfight. "Brooke, it's really just going to be a couple of friends."

Brooke didn't know whether to laugh in Haley's face or cry. "Right," she spat at her spitefully, "but I'm not one of them. Whatever." Brooke turned abruptly and headed back inside. What had she been thinking, hoping that Haley would be her friend? Haley was loyal to Lucas; she always would be. **(end 1)**

For the first time, Brooke accepted the fact that she was really, truly in this alone.

She stopped in her tracks feeling a wave of sadness wash over her. She wallowed in self-pity for a few moments before picking up her pace again as a steely determination flared inside, forcing out the sadness.

Who cared if she was alone?

Brooke Davis had chased out the monsters alone before. She could do it again.

(1)….(end 1) Scene taken from _One Tree Hill_ episode "What Is And Never Should Be"

**Author's Note:** Chapter four. Hope you guys liked it.

_until__ next time…_

_caramelo_


	5. Witchiepoo

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill_ or anything related to it._

**Chapter Five:** Witchie-poo

Brooke woke up the next day at three o'clock in the afternoon. She stared at the ceiling for a good fifteen minutes before finally dragging herself out of bed. _What's the point? _she thought. It wasn't as if she had anywhere to be, thanks to Lucas, Peyton, and Haley James's stupid party.

Hold on, and rewind. Did Brooke Davis just admit to herself that she had absolutely nothing to do on a Saturday night?

"Oh shit," Brooke groaned, "I'm turning into a social leper."

_No_, she thought, _this is ridiculous_.

She was Brooke Davis, goddamn it. Of course she had something to do tonight. The only question was _what_?

"I'll call someone," Brooke said to herself stubbornly. It wasn't as if everybody was going to the party. In fact, Haley herself had said it would be small. Most of Brooke's friends probably didn't even know about it. She could recruit a few of the single girls from the cheerleading squad, and they could go scope out the prospects at a few of the bars.

Was a bar really the best place to meet a nice guy?

_Doesn't matter_, Brooke decided. Nobody said she couldn't go through a few more of bad guys tonight while she searched for the right one.

She might have been a dirty slut, but who cared? It was only because she was so good at it. Besides, who knew? She could get lucky. There could be a deliciously sweet guy at a bar downing shots because his girlfriend had just dumped him. Brooke did that sometimes.

Mostly though, it was Brooke's ex-boyfriends who were down there getting drunk. She tended to break things off once they got too attached. Brooke wasn't big on emotional strings.

So, it was settled. A night out on the town with a few girlfriends was exactly what she needed. Way better than what she had done last night. She winced at the thought.

Last night was one of the saddest, dullest nights of Brooke's life. She had been too depressed and angry to call anybody and too restless to just fall asleep. For the first Friday night as far as she could remember, Brooke had spent it alone, watching reruns of _I Love Lucy_ and eating a whole pint of ice cream. She didn't even like _I Love Lucy_ all that much. There was just nothing else to do.

"Tonight will be better," Brooke promised herself, "Way better."

Brooke was on a mission. She was determined to have a good time, whether she had been invited to a party or not. She picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers. She tucked the phone in between her shoulder and her ear as she walked over to her closet to rummage around for something to wear.

"Hello?" a voice picked up on the other end.

"Hey, girl!" Brooke cooed into the phone. "It's Brooke."

"Oh, hey, Brooke!" Bevin said, her voice considerably perkier now. "What's up?"

"You know," Brooke said, "the usual. So what are you doing? Got any plans tonight?"

Bevin hesitated. "Actually, I'm going to that girl Haley's party. You know, the one at Nathan's new apartment?"

"Oh," Brooke said flatly. "Yeah, I know about it."

"You're going, right?" Bevin asked uncertainly. "I mean, it's supposed to be totally hot. Everybody should be there."

"I don't know," Brooke said. "I was actually thinking about skipping it."

"Why?" Bevin sounded more and more insecure as the conversation continued.

"It just didn't sound like my kind of thing," Brooke said, "a little too tame for me."

There was a pause before Bevin continued. "Oh," she finally said.

"Yeah," Brooke forced herself to be perky before continuing, "but hey, you can tell me all about it on Monday, 'kay? We'll compare notes, and see if the party really was worth going to."

"Great idea," Bevin said with a fake giggle. "See ya later, Brookie."

"See ya, Bev." Brooke sighed as she hung up the phone. Everything about that phone conversation had been so fake, so played up. Was everything in her life like that? She really didn't want to know the answer.

Besides, Brooke had other things to worry about. Bevin was not the kind of person Haley would invite to a small party. Bevin was not the kind of person Haley would invite to anything period. She was the definition of wild. Brooke and her often hit up the bars and ended up dancing on tables together while getting a few good make out sessions in with random guys before the night ended. They weren't really friends, but good acting could convince everyone else, and themselves, otherwise.

The point was, if Bevin was going to this party, then how many other people were going? Brooke could keep a secret, but Bevin posted fliers for this sort of thing. Obviously this party wasn't as small as Haley had let on.

Brooke shook her head and tried to push her fears aside. Maybe she was just overreacting. Maybe Haley just invited Bevin to spice things up a little. It was still hard to form the mental picture of Haley inviting, or even talking, to Bevin though.

"This is stupid," Brooke admonished herself. "I'll just call someone else."

She pulled a pair of tight black jeans and an eye-catching red shirt from her closet as she dialed Tanya's number. She tucked the phone against her shoulder again and hopped around as she pulled off her pajama pants and stepped into the jeans. The phone kept ringing.

"Come on, Tanya," Brooke urged. "Pick up the damn phone."

After about five or six rings, the answering machine picked up. "Hey, it's Tanya!" said the enthusiastic recording. "I'm at Haley James's party rockin' it out right now! Yeah! So leave a message, or even better, come on over!"

Brooke stopped in mid-hop and let the phone clatter to the floor. Disgusted, she picked it back up, hung up, and threw it over in the general direction of her bed. "I can't believe this!" she shrieked. When there was a party, Brooke Davis was always the first person invited. Always. Now, look at her. She was stuck at home, with nothing to do, while all her friends were having a great time at what sounded like a killer party that she had specifically been told not to come to.

She narrowed her eyes. She was going to have a great time tonight. She was determined to. Brooke didn't need friends or tons of people. All she needed was a bar and a hot guy hanging on every little word she said. She looked down at the jeans she had just put on and shook her head. It was a pretty awesome outfit, yes, but it wasn't the right one for the job. Brooke carefully hung the shirt and jeansback up in her closet and reached for something else. She tugged it off its hanger and studied it carefully—a tiny black halter dress with a big pink sash in the middle.

"_Perfect_."

Brooke spent the next few hours showering, plucking, shaving, and just generally doing everything she could to look better than ever. By the time she actually stepped out of her door, it was dark, but it had all been worth it. Her legs were smooth and slathered with lotion, her hair was silky and flipped out, and her dress looked amazing on her. Brooke Davis, in a word, looked hot.

Her lips curved into a feisty smirk. She couldn't explain it, but Brooke had this unshakeable feeling that something big was going to happen tonight. Her high heels clicked on the pavement as she walked to her car, and growing anticipation rose within her. Butterflies tumbled around in her stomach when she put the key in the ignition. Her eyes shone with expectancy. Brooke revved up her car, and her wheels screeched as she sped away.

Whatever was going to happen tonight, she couldn't wait.

Not long after, Brooke pulled into the parking lot of the closest, and wildest, bar she could think of, Alley Cat. It was really kind of a hole-in-the-wall place, but it had cheap liquor and really was the best bet in terms of finding cute college boys gone wild.

Brooke pulled open the heavy door and walked on in. She was well aware at the stares and leers directed towards her as she walked alone and sat down on an empty stool in front of the bar. She didn't bother to acknowledge any of them. The prospects at this bar were really disappointing. All the men had to be at least in their thirties with disgusting pot-bellies and unshaven faces. Among the ranks of middle-aged losers was a particularly pathetic one that wouldn't take his eyes off her. Brooke tried to ignore him.

She sighed. She just knew her night was not meant to be spent like this. Something was supposed to happen. She still had that feeling, even though it had been considerably dulled after she took one glance around this sorry place. Where were all the cute college guys?

_Probably at the party_, Brooke thought bitterly. Where she should be, if it weren't for her backstabbing best friend. She made a resentful face and rested her chin in her palm. When had her life spiraled so far downhill?

Someone approached her. He sat down on the bar stool beside her and gave her a wide grin. Pitiful. Brooke gave him a fake smile and looked away, uninterested. This loser was a persistent one though.

**(1)** "Buy you a drink?" he offered.

Brooke bristled, annoyed, and turned back to him. Poor guy never even saw it coming as she began to vent all her frustrations on him. "Okay," she snapped. "Guy in need of a clue. Here's one. Women send signals. That was a brush off. Before you dip into your shallow pool of wit, let me paint us a picture and save us both the trouble. Here's your evening. You are going to slink back off to your buddies, laugh this off, get wasted, go home, and make nice with yourself. But don't be thinking of me, because even your fantasy of me, isn't interested in you." She was slightly flushed after finishing her tirade.

The guy sent her a truly sullen look and slunk off. His empty chair was quickly replaced by somebody else. "Nice work. Extra points for style," the newcomer said. She was gorgeous, Brooke noted, with long, dark brown hair and cat-shaped brown eyes. She definitely wasn't your typical girl-next-door. Recognition finally dawned on Brooke.

"I've seen you around," she said. "You're Jake's ex, right?"

Nikki smirked. "No, he's mine. You go to Tree Hill?" Brooke nodded, and she continued. "So what brings you out into the big, bad, real world?"

"Anger, alcohol, and a fake ID," Brooke answered bluntly.

"Nice combo," Nikki said approvingly. "Men?"

"Dogs," Brooke said, her face twisting in disgust. "Two of them. Ex-boyfriend and backstabbing ex-girly best friend.

Nikki rolled her eyes in understanding. "Typical. If you have a strand of hair and five minutes I can show you a great curse you can put on them.

Brooke shrugged. "Okay." She pulled out a strand of hair and handed it to Nikki with a smile. She sort of liked this girl. She had great style. "Bring it on, witch."

"Okay," Nikki said, holding the hair within two fingers. "What are their names?"

"Lucas and Peyton," Brooke replied willingly.

Nikki looked up at her sharply. "Mm," she said with interest. "And where are they tonight?"

Brooke clenched her teeth with anger. "They are at a party that I was not invited to. Can you believe that? They sneak around like little mongrels, and I get removed from the A list," she said bitterly.

"Can I get you ladies anything?" A voice broke into their conversation. Brooke was ready to tell some other pathetic loser off, but it was just the bartender.

"Yeah, two vodkas," Nikki requested, "And two for my new friend here." **(end 1)**

The bartender nodded, but Brooke stopped him before he walked off. "Make that a diet soda for me," she said. She leaned back in her chair uneasily. Alcohol was bad for pregnant women. Everybody knew that. But why had she spoken up? It wasn't like she was actually planning on having the baby. Still, as usual, instinct had taken over. And it was going to get her screwed one of these days.

He shot her a strange look. This was, after all, a bar. People came here specifically to get drunk. He almost never heard requests for anything without alcohol. "Sure thing," he said slowly. "What kind?"

"Umm, a coke," Brooke said impatiently, waving him off.

"Gotcha," the bartender said with another curt nod. He quickly hurried off to take orders from other customers.

Brooke was met by another strange look when she turned back to Nikki. "I don't believe it," Nikki said in an awed voice.

"What?" Brooke asked innocently.

"You," Nikki said, as if this explained everything.

Brooke pretended to be unaware of what she was talking about. "What about me?"

"You're knocked up," Nikki accused.

"Not so loud," Brooke shushed her. It was no use lying now. Brooke had all but given it away. "It's not something I like to advertise. You know how it is."

"Yeah," Nikki nodded. "I do know. Once people find out, you can't get a good fuck in ages."

"I thought you were with Jake," Brooke said suspiciously.

"I was," Nikki said. "But I was also a bitter, angry bitch who resented him because of the fact that I was gaining five pounds every month. I had to strike back somehow."

Brooke nodded. "That makes sense."

"So what about you?" Nikki asked curiously. "Do you know who the father is?"

"Of course I know who the father is," Brooke scowled. "Even though most of the time, I wish I didn't. Better some bar jerk then a two-timing ex-boyfriend."

"So it's Lucas, huh?" Nikki said. Her eyes glittered oddly.

"Yeah," Brooke said slowly. She shot Nikki a wary look. "You know him?"

"I know of him," she clarified. "Besides, you mentioned him earlier."

"Oh, yeah," Brooke said.

"He doesn't really strike me as the hit-and-run type though. If he knew you were pregnant, then why'd he leave you?" Realization dawned in Nikki's eyes. "Wait, does he even know he's the father?"

"He did at one point," Brooke said defensively. Nikki raised a brow. "Okay," Brooke admitted. "Until I told him it was all a lie. It was just easier that way."

"So how do you plan on hiding it from him for much longer?" Nikki asked. "I know when I was pregnant I swelled up like a fucking balloon. Gonna have an abortion?"

"That's what I've been planning on," Brooke said.

"Yeah, I considered doing that at one point," Nikki said, almost dreamily. "I was young though, naïve, and I really believed Jake was the one for me, and we could have this cute little family together. Still do, sometimes. Then when I had Jenny, I realized commitment scared the shit out of me and left."

"I just can't picture myself being able to raise a baby with that cheater," Brooke said. "Hell, I can't picture myself raising a baby period. I'm just not ready to give what I have up for that."

"Know what you mean," Nikki nodded. "That's what sent me packing."

The bartender returned with their drinks. "Enjoy, ladies," he said. Nikki moved to pay, but he shook his head. "On the house," he said with a grin. Nikki gave him a fake smile back.

"_Men_," she muttered under her breath. Brooke curved her lips into a half-smile. "Anyway," Nikki said, stirring her drink with a straw. Brooke sipped distastefully at her own. It just wasn't the same without alcohol. Nikki looked up slowly, a devious grin spreading over her face. "I just had an idea," she said.

Brooke glanced over listlessly. "Let's hear it," she said.

"Well," Nikki began, "What are we doing here anyway? We're single, we're hot, and unless I'm wrong about you, which is doubtful, we definitely know how to party. And I think we both know one we can crash."

**(2)** Brooke smirked. "Now you're talking, witchie-poo."

"Mm hm," Nikki purred in agreement. **(end 2)**

Not another word was spoken as the two girls hopped off their bar stools and strode through the bar to the door. The air outside was warm with a slight breeze passing through that ruffled Brooke's hair. She sent a sideways glance over at Nikki. "I'll drive," she offered.

"We'll both drive," Nikki said. "There's no way I'm leaving my car alone here with these thugs."

"Point taken," Brooke said. "You know the way?"

"No, but I can follow you."

"Gotcha."

"Don't drive like a maniac and leave me behind," Nikki warned. "If I get lost, then I'm taking that strand of hair you gave me and making a Brooke voodoo doll out of it. Then you'll be sorry."

Brooke laughed. "Don't worry. I've racked up too many speeding tickets as it is. I always manage to get caught by the butch women officers."

Nikki laughed. "All right then. Let's roll out of this hellhole."

"It's time to crash a party," Brooke agreed. They both headed out to each of their cars and slid in, slamming the doors simultaneously. Brooke retouched her lip gloss as she pulled out of the parking lot and waved at Nikki through the rearview mirror cutely. Nikki blew a kiss.

Brooke sneered, and her hands tightened around the wheel. Her heel pressed down on the accelerator. Hard. She wasn't concerned though. Nikki was a pretty crazy driver too. It didn't take them long to reach Nathan's apartment.

Brooke could hear the music pumping as soon as she got out of her car. This was definitely going to be a wild party. The butterflies in her stomach multiplied by the thousands and her anticipation intensified. Nikki sidled up beside her. "Ready?" she said.

"I'm always ready," Brooke replied confidently.

Nikki nodded. "After you," she said.

Brooke walked up to the door with Nikki right on her heels. She rang the doorbell, and Nikki stepped up beside her. They leaned against the doorframe lazily. Suddenly, the door swung open. Brooke took in the scene before her quickly-the hordes of people, the beer, and the group right in front of her. A smirk curled on her face.

**(3)** "Who cares? It's a party," Haley was saying to Peyton and Lucas.

Brooke cleared her throat. It was time to spice things up. "Sorry I'm late," she chirped loudly, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "Hope nobody minds, but I brought a friend." She smirked at Nikki.

Nikki smirked back as they both noted the horrified looks on Haley, Lucas, and Peyton's faces.

"Let the games begin," she said smoothly, holding back her laughter. **(end 3)**


	6. Brookie's Little Secret

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill_ or anything related to it._

**Chapter Six: **Brookie's Little Secret

Brooke was having the time of her life. It was just so fun being evil.

When she and Nikki had appeared at the doorway, all eyes had been on them. Some just to say hi, but others who knew better were apprehensive, very apprehensive. Brooke and Nikki had given them all cool glances in return, lingering on Lucas's gaze before slinking in.

"Tim, sweetie!" Brooke had called. "Get us some drinks, will ya?"

Tim had saluted and nearly fell over himself in his rush to comply with Brooke's request. "How are you doing, ladies?" he had asked smoothly upon return.

They had given some noncommittal answer, and he had nodded enthusiastically. "Great!" Then, he leaned in close and dropped his voice. "I'll have you know that while Nathan and Haley are hosting this party, I'm really the mastermind behind everything." His eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "So, any and all thanks should rightfully go to me."

Brooke had rolled her eyes. "Get out of here, Tim."

And so now, at the moment, she and Jake's ex Nikki were lounging on the couch just sipping on their drinks (or in Brooke's case, pretending to) and sending each other triumphant smirks and occasionally making derogatory remarks about the three people who couldn't keep their eyes of them.

That would be Haley, Peyton, and that man-whore ex-boyfriend Lucas.

Brooke threw back her head and laughed, just because. She had always loved being the center of attention.

Nikki's lips curled into an amused smile. "Having fun?"

"You bet," Brooke said. "It's great knowing I'm the center of their sorry little lives right now."

Nikki nodded in acknowledgment. She began to stand up.

"Where are you going?" Brooke asked curiously.

"Just stirring up a little more fun," Nikki winked. "We witches have a special charm for that."

Brooke smiled and nodded. "I want to see some of that magic."

There was a definite glimmer in Nikki's eyes as she sidled up next to Lucas, who at the moment, was alone after Peyton and Haley had hurried off to investigate some crash in the next room. Brooke furrowed a brow, but didn't give it a second thought. After all, it wasn't like Nikki and Lucas had ever had anything to do with each other anyway. She strained to hear what they were saying, but the words were spoken too softly, and all she could hear were indecipherable fragments.

"...keep a secret," Nikki was saying. Brooke did a double take. _What secret?_

This was exactly when somebody decided to make their appearance. "Hey, girlie," a sugary sweet voice chimed. It was Bevin.

Brooke turned and gave her a tight smile back. "Hey, Bev."

"Glad you could make it," Bevin was oblivious to Brooke's silent pleas for her to go away. "I thought you were going bar-hopping."

"I did," Brooke said flatly. "The prospects sucked."

Bevin winced. "Horny, bald jackasses?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Ew." It took a moment for Bevin to recover after imagining this, but soon she was bright and perky, as usual. "Well it's good to see you anyway. But, uh, I gotta jet. Somebody's waiting for me in the next room."

Brooke waggled her eyebrows. "Ooh, Bevvie. Way to keep it dirty."

"Always," Bevin laughed. "But I haven't had my partner in crime lately."

"Don't worry," Brooke assured her. "I've been partyin' it up in other places, but I think I'm gonna stick to the local joints again. We'll be the whores dancing on the tables in no time again."

"Great," Bevin laughed. "See ya Monday, Brookie."

"Monday," Brooke agreed as Bevin got stood up and disappeared into a dark room that looked suspiciously like a closet. The jackets hanging in that tight little space sort of gave it away. Brooke shook her head. Bevin was the most flexible person she knew.

Brooke really had nothing to do after Bevin left though, and she looked pretty pathetic sitting there by herself. Surreptitiously, after making sure nobody was watching, she tossed her drink in a nearby plant and made her way over to the keg.

Unluckily, the line wasn't that long, and soon, she was at the front. The guy handling the drinks was having some trouble though. Silently, Brooke applauded, but she had a reputation to maintain.

**(1)** "It's not gonna fill itself," she said impatiently. The guy scowled and finally managed to hand her a halfway full cup. She was deciding on whether or not to head back to the couch when Peyton came walking up.

"So, you're hanging out with Nikki," Peyton said. Her voice was flat, and she had this look on her face as if she had just swallowed something sour.

"Sorry," Brooke said snottily, "do I know you?"

Peyton sighed and shrugged, frustrated. "Look, Brooke, just don't cause any trouble tonight, okay?"

Brooke ignored her. She clapped her hands in mock-enthusiasm. "Wait a minute, you're that tallish lying person I used to be friends with. Why don't you go crawling back to the boyfriend formally known as mine?"

Peyton narrowed her eyes. "Okay," she snapped, "this whole not being friends with you thing is getting so much easier every time I see you." She stormed off with a huff.

Brooke's face fell. She wasn't sure why, but it broke her heart every time Peyton gave up on her. **(end 1)**

Brooke tried to shrug it off. She was in control, remember? She was the one pushing Peyton away, because she didn't want Peyton around. It didn't make any sense to be sad about that.

Brooke looked around. She really didn't want to go back to the couch. Where was Nikki anyway? Her eyes scanned around the room until they finally landed on the sneaky brunette. She had managed to back some love struck boy into a corner. Probably one who hadn't heard about her reputation yet.

"Oh, new-friend Nikki!" Brooke called. Nikki glanced back sharply and fixed a glare on Brooke. "Come here," Brooke grinned in return.

Nikki leaned in close to the guy she had been flirting with and whispered something in his ear. The guy blushed and nodded. He was kind of cute, Brooke noted, but not even playing the same ball game as them. Nikki deserved much better.

"What are you doing?" Nikki hissed as she walked up.

"Saving you," Brooke said airily. "That guy was so not worth it."

Nikki chanced a glance back at him. He waved. She sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," Brooke said smugly. "Now are we about ready to cause some major damage here or what? Because this party is way too boring for me."

"You wait and see, Brookie," Nikki smirked, "I've got plenty of fun brewing right now."

"Good," Brooke said. "I'm beyond ready for something exciting to happen."

"Trust me," Nikki assured her. A cocky grin curled on her thin red lips. "This'll be a night you won't forget."

An uneasy feeling crept over Brooke at these words. She wasn't sure why, but at that moment the image of Nikki smiling so arrogantly at her put her on the edge. She tried to shrug it off. "You better be right," Brooke said to her, trying to seem nonchalant.

"I will be. You'll see," Nikki said. Somebody knocked into Brooke, and she turned around to see a group of guys she knew from school carrying Mouth across the room.

"Little help?" he was asking someone.

Nikki smirked at Brooke. "Take that as a sign." Her attention focused past Brooke and onto the person Mouth was waving to. Brooke turned too. It was Haley. Right beside her were Lucas and Peyton playing a game of quarters.

"Come on," Nikki said. Her eyes glittered with anticipation. "It's time for round two."

**(2)** Following Nikki's lead, Brooke began walking towards the trio. "I cannot stop the madness," Haley was whining. Brooke scoffed. This party was tame compared to most. If Haley couldn't keep up, then she shouldn't have tried to throw her little coming out party in the first place.

Peyton however, flicked a quarter in the cup and then looked up to smile sympathetically at Haley. Figured. "Okay, you know what?" she told her, "Drink this, you look like you could use it." Haley grabbed the cup greedily and chugged its contents. Peyton looked surprised. "Wow!"

Brooke rolled her eyes. This was pathetic to even watch. "So you two are playing games," she said loudly, in a voice meant to be overheard. Her eyes burned holes into Peyton and Lucas. "Watch out for them," she advised Haley, keeping her gaze steady, "they look like they might cheat."

"Oh, you're still here," Nikki pretended to notice Peyton for the first time. Her lip curled. "I thought that you'd be running off to tuck in _my_ kid."

Peyton leveled a cool gaze on Nikki. She looked just as disgusted. "Someone's got to," she spat.

Nikki's cheeks flushed red with anger. "Yeah, well, hopefully it's not some slutty boyfriend thief." Her hand shook as she clenched and unclenched it into a fist, but Brooke was the only one to notice. The uneasy feeling washed over her again. She realized that the anticipation she had had earlier about something huge happening that night might not have been anticipation for something good. In fact, it was being to look like something very, very bad was about to happen.

"I'll drink to that," she laughed before Peyton could say anything, trying to ease the tension. It wasn't till after the words had escaped her lips that she realized how wrong they were for the occasion. Especially coming out as bitterly as they had.

"Look," Peyton addressed Nikki, completely ignoring Brooke, "Why don't you do what you're really good at and disappear?"

Nikki's eyes flashed dangerously. "You have a problem?"

Brooke fidgeted. This was turning ugly fast. "Wow, Nikki, she's not worth it," she said desperately. She would have said anything to diffuse the situation at hand. She would have tap danced on the coffee table in a chicken suit with Mouth if she thought it would have helped.

Well, maybe not. At least not with Mouth.

Nikki made a move towards Peyton, and Brooke grabbed her wrist. Brooke's gaze was hard; Nikki's was hard too. They carried on a silent, split second argument. Nikki's face twisted into a cruel sneer. "Get off me." She wrenched her wrist from Brooke's grasp and strode up to Peyton. They were nose to nose practically. "I asked if you had a problem," Nikki demanded.

Brooke winced. It was impossible not to know Peyton, really know her, after all the years they had been friends. Brooke could practically read her mind by now. And she knew exactly what was going to go down. Peyton had never been one to back down.

"Yeah, I do," Peyton said boldly, just as expected. "It's called you, bitch."

A hush fell over the entire crowd at the party as Peyton's words reverberated through the air. All eyes were on the two girls, one blonde and one brunette, both staring murderously at each other. Even Nikki looked shocked for a second. It was the calm before the storm.

Without warning, all of the sudden Peyton was up against the refrigerator. Nikki had pushed her. A red mark in the shape of a hand appeared on her cheek. Nikki had slapped her.

Peyton wasn't going to put up with this. Maybe somebody else would have, somebody with less of a backbone, but never Peyton. It was one of the reasons Brooke had always respected her so much. True to character, Peyton pushed Nikki back, hard, and Nikki crashed onto the coffee table, taking Peyton with her. They both fell to the floor with matching thuds, but it didn't faze either of them. Within seconds, they had both scrambled to their feet and were pulling at each other mercilessly. Lucas finally broke in and pulled them apart.

"Haley," Lucas panted, trying hard to maintain control over the two struggling girls. "Help me out here!" Before she could, Peyton and Nikki had broken free. Nikki, insane with rage, grabbed a stool and heaved it at Peyton. Peyton dodged, and it flew out the window which shattered into thousands of tiny pieces upon impact. Even this didn't stop Peyton and Nikki. They grabbed each other again. **(end 2)**

Brooke hugged herself as she watched them. This was a nightmare.

She felt someone's gaze on her. It was Lucas. Her arms dropped to her side immediately, and she glared at him defiantly. "What?" she hissed.

"This is your fault, you know," he said quietly. "Why'd you have to bring Nikki here?"

"Nikki's my friend," Brooke snapped at him.

Lucas's gaze traveled towards Nikki. Brooke's stubbornly remained on him. "Look at her," he directed. Against her will, Brooke's eyes shot in Nikki's direction, where she was currently tearing at Peyton's ever perfect curls. Brooke looked away, ashamed. "She's not your friend, Brooke," Lucas spoke again, pulling Brooke's attention back towards him.

"Yeah, well neither are you," Brooke said bitterly. "So don't lecture me, Scott."

**(3) **At that moment, Peyton and Nikki somehow managed to snap the coffee table. "Come on! Stop!" People yelled, finally pulling them forcefully apart. Lucas stared incredulously, but Brooke sprang into action. She scoffed at him as she passed by.

Brooke didn't really know what she was going to do as she strode purposefully towards Nikki and Peyton. Vaguely, she had the idea that she might tear into Peyton for fighting with her new friend Nikki, but when she reached the two, she did the exact opposite.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed furiously at Nikki, tearing into her for fighting with her old friend Peyton.

Nikki smiled at her coldly. "Isn't this what you wanted?" she jeered. She tried free herself from Tim's arms to go after Peyton again.

"Stop!" Tim yelled, frustrated.

"You need to go," Lucas added vehemently.

Nikki shot him a simpering smirk. "Well, isn't this sweet? Lucas Scott coming to the defense of his women. Oh, but wait. Shouldn't that include someone else?" Haley, Peyton, and Brooke all turned their heads to look at Lucas, shocked, while he flushed red. Nikki shrugged out of Tim's grasp finally and walked lazily up to him, smiling seductively. "Don't worry," she purred, "I can keep a secret too." She nudged past him, but stopped right before her hand reached the doorknob. She glanced back. **(end 3)**

Her gaze fell on Brooke. "But some secrets are just too good to keep to yourself, don't you agree, Brookie?" Nikki giggled playfully as she skipped back over to Brooke.

The color drained out of Brooke's face. She was all too aware of how many eyes were on her now, including Lucas's. "I don't know what you're talking about, Nikki," Brooke laughed weakly back. Her gaze was pleading this time, pleading Nikki not to say it, pleading Nikki not to let out the one secret that would completely destroy her.

Nikki cocked her head, "Really?" she said, mock innocently. "You really don't remember, Brookie? You only told me a few hours ago."

Goosebumps rippled across Brooke's body, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. "Nikki," she said warningly.

"Brookie," Nikki taunted.

"Stop calling me that," Brooke said tightly. She clenched her fists.

Nikki noticed this without much concern. Her eyes flicked back up to Brooke's. They were like fire, wild and burning. "Don't test me," she warned, "Take one step toward me, and you're gonna hit rock bottom in a heartbeat."

"For your information, bitch," Brooke said before she could stop herself, "I've already hit rock bottom."

With either impeccably good or impeccably bad timing, Nathan stuck his head through the door at that exact second. "Hey," he protested, "I thought this was supposed to be a part--" his words faded as his gaze landed on Nikki and Brooke in the center of the crowd, glaring at each other. "Oh shit," he murmured. This was bad news.

Nikki turned back to Brooke, continuing on as if nothing had happened. "For your information, you knocked up little whore," she shot back harshly at Brooke, pausing for effect, "rock bottom just got a whole lot worse." Nikki smirked, satisfied with the gasps her statement evoked after it sunk in.

Brooke slapped Nikki. It was the only sound in the room for a good few minutes. Then, she took an unsteady step back, as if she herself had been struck. Her eyes swept wildly around the room, looking for a way out. They landed on Nathan.

He stared back at her, and in that split second, Brooke calmed down. Her frayed nerves were soothed by the steady gaze in his eyes. He didn't look shocked or angry, just...accepting. It was almost as if he had known. And by the look in his eyes, Brooke knew he wasn't judging her. He wasn't labeling her as a whore. He was just _there_, just for her.

Then Nikki spoke up and ruined the moment. "Let me be the first to give my congratulations to the father," she said silkily as she sidled up to Lucas and rubbed against him. She sighed in fake happiness, "I think you'll make a great dad," she squealed.

Lucas glared coldly down at her. He flinched away from her touch. "Get out of here, Nikki," he said, his voice soft. He lifted his gaze to meet everybody else's. "All of you," he said. "Get. Out."

Nobody wanted to leave, but everybody knew better than to argue with him. Everybody except for Nikki, that is. "Aww, Luke," she cooed, "I was really hoping we could turn this thing into a baby shower while everybody's still here. It would save a lot of planning."

"Nikki," Lucas said tightly. His eyes were full of more fury than Brooke had ever seen before. "Get out!"

She got the hint that time. "Fine," she pouted. She walked toward the door again, stopping only to give Brooke a huge hug. "I'm _so_ happy for you," she said, throwing back her head in laughter. Brooke could only stare blankly back at her. Nikki gave one last chuckle before strolling out the door. The rest of the crowd followed behind.

Nathan held the door open for everyone and shut it when the last person finally walked out. The sound of the lock clicking registered dimly in Brooke's mind. It was the most frightening sound she had ever heard in her life. The only people left in the small apartment were her, Nathan, Haley, Peyton, and Lucas. It was amazing they had managed to fit all those other people in her, Brooke noted dully. The apartment seemed suffocatingly tight to her with just the five of them in it.

Lucas was the first person to speak.

"What the _hell_ was that about?"

(1)...(end 1) / (2)...(end 2) / (3)...(end 3) Scenes taken from _One Tree Hill_ episode "What Is And What Never Should Be"

**Author's Note: **Wow guys thanks so much for the feedback! It was nice seeing the reviews pick back up again...they were kinda dying out the last few chapters. Thanks for being so patient with me, I had a little bit of difficulties with this chapter. Difficulties that include the metal thing on the floppy disk getting stuck in the computer. Did you know if you try to pry those things out with a ruler or a knife then it destroys your disk drive and your parents have to buy a new one? Yeah. You learn something new everyday. Anyway, hope you guys like the chapter. Let me know what you think.

_until next time..._

_caramelo_


	7. Scream

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Seven:** Scream

Brooke felt cornered. Like a little rat being surrounded by four cats. That's pretty much what she was, she admitted to herself. A rat. A lying, dirty rat. She was so screwed.

"I asked, what the hell was that about?" Lucas repeated, his voice rising with each word. He looked confused and scared, but mostly angry. Angry at her.

Brooke realized she had never answered him the first time. She looked down at the ground, then up at the ceiling, then past him at the door. Anywhere but him. She couldn't look at him right now. Or the others. God, who knew what they must have thought about her? She must have looked so pathetic right then. She _was _pathetic.

"Brooke!" Lucas snapped. He was so impatient, Brooke thought dully. So impatient and so angry. But then again, he had a right to be, didn't he? After all, this wasn't one of those silly _I know something you don't—Peyton has a crush on you_ secrets. This was an _I'm having your kid but I decided to lie about it _kind of secrets. It was huge. Lucas was the father of her baby, and she had almost gotten away with not telling him about it.

Lucas reached out and grabbed her arm, tight. His eyes were flashing. Brooke's eyes, without her meaning to, flew up to his. What she saw terrified her. He was way beyond anger. He was furious. Brooke shivered.

Nathan stepped between them. "Dude, stop it," he reprimanded Lucas. "You're scaring her."

Lucas stared up at him in disbelief. "Scaring her?" he barked. "Have you been here for the past twenty minutes? I'm scared too."

Nathan shook his head. "You think I don't know that? I know you must be scared out of your fucking mind." He glanced up at Brooke meaningfully. "But just look at her, man. Look at her, and tell me that she can handle you being like this."

Obediently, Lucas looked at Brooke. At first, it was just a dull, half-hearted glance, but then something lit in his eyes and he probed deeper, like he used to when they were together. Brooke felt uneasy. She had always thought whenever he looked at her like that he could see right through her. She wondered if he ever looked at Peyton like that. Actually, she already knew the answer.

When they had been going out, Brooke had always strived to make Lucas give her that look. To her, it meant something. It meant that while he was staring at her that way, she was the only thing that mattered. She was the center of his world. It meant he really loved her, and he wanted to know everything about her because he cared. She had always pushed and pushed and strived to do her best because she knew it'd take something truly monumental to earn that look.

Whereas, on the other hand, she knew deep down that all Peyton had to do was walk in the room for Lucas to give her the exact same look.

Brooke blinked back her tears. If only she hadn't been too blind to see that then, when she and Lucas had first been going out, they would have never been the position they were in right now.

Lucas dropped his gaze, thankfully. Brooke knew she wouldn't have been able to handle much more of that. They weren't together anymore and that look was just a painful reminder of how foolish she had been when they were. It hurt her so much to see it now directed at her, or worse, Peyton.

"You're right," Lucas finally told Nathan. "I'm sorry." He grimaced and gave Brooke that look again. She tensed up. "Look, I know this is a pretty stupid question," he said, "but I have to ask it. I have to hear it from you. All that stuff Nikki just said about you, is it true? Are you really pregnant, Brooke?"

Brooke bit her lip. She glanced around at everybody in the room. They all knew the answer, of course, but somehow hearing her say it, would make it all more real. For god's sake, Haley even still looked hopeful. As if there were some small, tiny, one-in-a-billion chance that Brooke could say that Nikki was just a lying bitch. Which she was tempted to do but knew she couldn't. She had kept this secret for too long.

She nodded. Brooke knew this wasn't enough though, so she took a deep breath and spoke, her voice breaking slightly as she began. "Y-yeah. I'm pregnant."

Lucas shut his eyes. "And I'm the father?" he breathed.

"You're the father," Brooke repeated. She sent him a reproachful glare even though he couldn't see it. It was just like the first time she had told him, and he had said that there was no way she could be sure that the baby was his. That had hurt, big time.

It was if the entire room had let out one long, disappointed sigh at these words. Everything they feared had been confirmed by Brooke herself. This would change everything.

Another, different voice spoke up hesitantly. One that had been lurking in the background the entire time, just watching the scene take place before her. "Why didn't you tell one of us, Brooke?" Haley asked. Her tone was soft and compassionate. "It must have been hard to keep something like that a secret for so long. We could have helped you."

Brooke laughed bitterly. "You think I didn't want to? Believe me, if there had been someone I could have trusted, I would have gone to them long ago." She fixed a harsh glare on Lucas. "I thought about telling you. In fact, I did end up telling you. But the whole thing blew up in my face. It was a nightmare. You couldn't keep your mouth shut, and I realized I didn't want my baby to be raised by a guy like you. It was a mistake."

She turned to Peyton. "And then there was you, my best friend," she scoffed. "My best friend who went behind my back and stole one of the only guys I ever lov—cared about," she corrected quickly. "Yeah, there was a _huge_ trust factor there."

"Brooke," Peyton began to protest.

"Save it," Brooke snapped. She went on to Haley.

"I actually seriously considered telling you. I was just about to at one point. Remember when I saw you at lunch with Megan talking about the party. I figured we could make nice-nice at the party, become really good friends, and I'd tell you everything. But that was before you turned me down." Brooke smirked. "You were real nice about it though."

"Don't try to pin this all on Haley," Lucas reprimanded. "How was she supposed to know?"

"She wasn't," Brooke said, "but the fact that she would toss me aside just to make you and Peyton happy really says a lot, don't you think?"

"I'm really sorry, Brooke," Haley said before Lucas could say anything else. "I really didn't think you would mind all that much."

Brooke shook her head in disbelief. "Excuse me? You didn't think I'd _mind_? Oh, of course I wouldn't. I'm Brooke Davis, after all. Brainless slut extraordinaire. And we all know that brainless sluts don't have feelings or anything."

Haley hung her head in shame. Lucas jumped in again. "You're the only one who said that you were a brainless slut, Brooke. Nobody else accused you of it. So stop making us all feel bad for things we didn't do."

Brooke stared at him blankly for a few seconds. She blinked. "Okay," she said slowly. "Would you like me to make you feel bad for the stuff you did do? Because we've already been through that, but I'll be glad to do it again."

Lucas clenched his teeth. "You're impossible," he said.

Brooke opened her mouth and shut it again. She was trying to find the right words to come back with when Nathan stepped in. "What about me?" he asked.

Incredulously, everyone in the room turned to Nathan. Brooke shrugged. She looked at him, askance. "What about you?" she repeated.

Nathan shook his head. "That came out wrong. Earlier, you were telling everyone exactly why you didn't tell that that you were pregnant. They were all pretty good reasons too. But you never said why you couldn't tell me."

She was at a loss for words. Why hadn't she gone to Nathan? It just hadn't seemed fair really. He was already going through so much shit with his parents and moving out and everything, and it wouldn't have been right of her to dump her extra load on him when they really hadn't been all that close. She couldn't say all that though. Nathan didn't like to feel babied.

"I just didn't really think of you, that's all," she said uneasily.

Nathan's lips tightened, and he nodded. There was nothing else to say. Brooke's answer had just made it all worse. He thought she didn't even like him enough to consider telling him anything.

Brooke buried her head in her hands. She couldn't take this.

Haley walked up to her and put her arm around her shaking shoulders. "Oh, Brooke," she murmured soothingly. "It's going to be fine."

Brooke shrugged Haley's arm off coldly. "Fine?" she barked, "You think it's gonna be fine? Look me straight in the eye, Tutor Girl, and tell me you honestly think everything will be fine."

Hesitantly, Haley raised her gaze to Brooke's. She opened her mouth…then shut it abruptly. She looked away.

"Yeah," Brooke said bitterly. "Exactly what I thought."

"You've got a lot of nerve, Brooke." It was Peyton, who had been silently mulling over everything the whole time.

Brooke leveled a cool glare on Peyton. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Everybody's just trying to help you, but you just keep pushing them away," Peyton said. Her tone was half angry, half pleading.

"Well, you've all made it pretty clear that you don't give a rat's ass about me or my feelings lately," Brooke argued. Her voice turned mocking. "So I really wasn't in the mood for girl talk."

"Brooke," Peyton pleaded, "I know I've hurt you. You have no idea how much I regret that. If I could wish for one thing, it'd be to take back all the shitty things I've done to you this month."

"But you can't," Brooke cut in coldly.

"No," Peyton said, "I can't. And it kills me. All I want is my best friend back, Brooke. I want you to forgive me, and I want things to go back to normal between us."

Brooke's eyes turned into slits. "I know this may come as a shock to you, P, but not everything is about what you want."

"Trust me," Peyton said, "I'm well aware. Please, Brooke. Don't let some stupid thing like a guy break us apart." Lucas frowned at these words but said nothing.

"I wasn't the one who let that happen," Brooke shot back. "I would've never done what you did. There was certainly enough temptation," her eyes, for some reason, flitted briefly over to Nathan, and she flushed, "but I never gave in."

Nathan cocked a brow. It was a deadly serious moment, but he could've sworn Brooke had just inadvertently hit on him.

"I know," Peyton said. "God, I know. But can't we just put this behind us? I wanna be there for you, Brooke. I want to go with you to shop for the baby, and help put together the crib, and throw the baby shower for you. You can't get through this without a best friend, Brooke, and I'm willing to fill that position."

Brooke's eyes flooded with tears. She shook her head. "But I'm not willing to let you."

Tears gathered in Peyton's eyes too. "Why not?" she whispered.

"Because I can't!" Brooke snapped fiercely. Her brown eyes flashed with intensity. Then she seemed to deflate. Her shoulders slumped and her gaze dulled. "I just can't." She looked around her. The room was spinning. The walls were closing in. She felt dizzy and stumbled back a step. Lucas moved to help her, but she shrugged him off. "I can't…" she breathed, "…can't do this anymore." Her senses were screaming at her to get out.

So she did. She took a step forward and then another, and she brushed past Lucas, Peyton, and Haley. Dimly, she noted that Nathan was trying to reach out to stop her, but she sent him a seething glare. "Don't," she hissed.

Brooke walked out the door.

She wasn't sure where she was going. She just kept walking and walking, taking each step one at a time. She paused when she reached her car. She briefly considered climbing in. Her fingers even brushed the handle. But she didn't.

Brooke kept walking. Away from her car, away from Lucas and the rest of them, and away from the mess she had gotten herself into. It was too late for many people to be out in the streets, and the people that were there leered at her threateningly. Too immersed into her thoughts, Brooke didn't notice. Only when it started to rain did she finally begin to come back to her senses.

It started out as a sprinkle. She barely noticed as the droplets of water pebbled across her skin. Then it got harder and harder until it was a downright pour. Brooke finally stopped walking.

She looked around. She had absolutely no idea where she was. Brooke shivered. It was so cold. Her dress was clinging to her even more so than before, her hair was drenched, and her makeup was probably running down her face by now.

"What am I doing?" she moaned. She ran her hand through her dripping strands of hair. What had she gotten herself into? Where was she? What was she going to do? The road seemed darker, and Brooke had never felt so alone. Even the creeps had been driven into their houses because of the rain. She looked around her. All the shops were closed. It must have been at least one or two in the morning. It felt like she had been walking forever.

Brooke shook harder, and she choked back a sob. Full of frustration and needing a way to vent, she began to scream.

It was a long and shrill scream and it echoed through the street, followed by a series of more screams. By the time she stopped, her throat was sore, and she had never felt so drained in her life. Then she noticed a car stalled beside her.

Brooke knew she must have jumped a mile in the air. She could have sworn that car hadn't been there before, but she hadn't even heard it pull up. The headlights were still on though, and the windshield wipers were still going. She squinted her eyes and peered in closer, and her blood ran cold. There was no driver.

"So did you get it all out of your system?" a voice asked from behind her. Brooke would have screeched, but her throat wouldn't allow any more abuse. It came out more as a high-pitched squeak.

She spun around, tense and afraid, but relaxed when she saw who it was. "Nathan," she said, her voice scratchy, "thank God."

"I had a feeling you'd be happy to see me," he said cockily. It wasn't like his usual tone though; there was an unusual edge to it. Brooke glanced up and saw the troubled expression in his eyes.

"Cut the bullshit, Scott," she sighed.

Nathan's face twisted unpleasantly. He looked annoyed. "Well, how do you want me to act, Brooke? You walk out of my apartment three hours ago, leave your car behind, and disappear without a trace. I don't want you to run off again."

A grim smirk crept across Brooke's face. She braced herself, ready for the onslaught she was about to bring. "Just act like normal, okay?" she requested. "Say what you want to say."

"Is that what you really want?" Nathan asked doubtfully.

Brooke took a breath. "Yeah," she said, "That's what I really want."

"Fine then. You screwed up, Brooke," Nathan said simply. "You screwed up royally."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "No," he said firmly, "You said I could do this, and I'm going to do it. I'm not even talking about the whole being pregnant and keeping it a secret even though that wasn't very smart either. I'm talking about the whole walking off in the middle of the night thing. Do you have any idea how scared I—we were?

"Can't imagine you guys would care that much," she said bitterly.

He silenced her with a hard stare. "We were worried sick," he growled. "Do you know what could have happened to you out here, Brooke? There are tons of assholes just waiting for someone like you to walk by. Honestly, Brooke, I don't know what you were thinking. Usually, you're not this clueless, but tonight you really pulled a really stupid move. Really stupid. Anything could have happened to you."

There was a pause of silence. Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for her reaction. If he thought it would be an apology, he would be sorely disappointed.

"Are you done now?" Brooke asked rudely. She tended to get bitchy when somebody was preaching to her. Her own parents didn't do it, so what right did anyone else have?

Nathan look surprised, then hurt, then angry all within a couple seconds. Obviously, he had been expecting that apology. His jaw clenched. "Yeah, I think I am."

"Good," she said. Everything went silent again. Against her will, she shivered. Standing still in the rain was way worse than walking in the rain.

"You're cold," Nathan said flatly.

"A little," Brooke admitted. It was really no use lying when she was shaking so hard.

He sighed. "Get in the car."

"No."

This caught him off guard. "Get in the car, Brooke," he repeated, slower, firmer.

"No," Brooke said.

"Why the hell not?" he cried incredulously.

"Because if I get in that car, you're going to take me back to your place where Lucas, Peyton, and Haley will be waiting to tear into me like you just did."

"No, they won't," Nathan said.

Brooke rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Nathan. I know they will be."

"And I'm not lying, Brooke. I know they won't be," Nathan insisted. "Do you really think I was the only one who went looking for you? Everybody split up to find you. They're still out there looking. I was supposed to call if I found you."

"But you haven't?" Brooke asked.

"No," Nathan assured her, "I haven't."

"But you're going to?" Brooke persisted.

"I will," Nathan said, "After I take you back to my place and give you a chance to get in your car and drive home before they get there."

"But they'll still be out there looking for me," Brooke said suspiciously.

"Yeah, they will," Nathan said. "And I'm going to feel bad about it, but if that's the only way I can get you in this car, then I'm going to do it."

Brooke really was cold. And the car looked so warm and dry.

"Fine," she said. Her voice lost the hard edge it had had throughout the entire conversation. She looked up at him tiredly and sighed.

"Take me back."

Nathan was sure there was a double meaning to what she just said. But frankly, he was way too exhausted to even try to figure it out. Besides, he was more than a little distracted by the fact that her dress was clinging to her like a second skin.

But he shouldn't have been distracted by that. He really shouldn't have. After all, he had a girlfriend. And it wasn't like there wasn't anything more important going on right then. Lucas, Brooke, and possibly even Peyton's lives had just been shot to hell. This was no time to be thinking about Brooke's soaking, clingy, little black dress.

He told himself these things. He told himself over and over. This was not the time for him to be noticing stupid, disloyal things like that.

But he was. God help him, he really was.


	8. The Spark

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill_ or anything related to it_

**Chapter Eight: **The Spark

Brooke and Nathan must have been in the car for hours. That's what it felt like at least. Brooke glanced at the neon numbers of Nathan's clock and nearly groaned. It had only been five minutes.

The silence was unbearable. It was thick and heavy, and Brooke was going to go insane. She fidgeted. There was no escape. Unless she wanted to jump out of a moving vehicle. Not a very bright idea, of course. But as the seconds ticked by, she couldn't help but sneak glances at the door handle. She looked at the speedometer. They were only going twenty-five…

Without really thinking about it, Brooke unlocked her door and wrapped her fingers around the handle. She had to get out, had to get away. She might end up with a few scratches, but who cared? Anything to escape.

"What the hell are you doing, Brooke?" Nathan asked irritably.

With a start, Brooke realized he was glancing back at her every now and then. He probably had been for a while now. She stared back at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments and then looked back at her hand clutching the door handle tightly. She shook her head and loosened her hold. What was wrong with her?

"I'm not exactly sure," she admitted. "I think I was trying to get out."

Nathan looked at her incredulously. "You were going to jump out of the car?"

The idea seemed to get worse by the second as Brooke regained her bearings. She shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I was."

Rolling his eyes towards the roof, exasperated, Nathan berated her. "Are you fucking insane, Brooke? Are you? Do you have some type of death wish?"

"If there were ever a time to have one, it'd be now," Brooke grumbled.

Nathan slammed on the brakes, throwing both of them forward violently. Brooke gasped as the seatbelt dug into her stomach and knocked the breath out of her. She turned furiously towards Nathan, demanding explanation. "Can you even hear yourself?" he growled. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

Brooke glared defiantly back. "I didn't say I wanted to die, Nathan. I just meant that tonight has been beyond shitty, okay?"

He visibly relaxed, but Nathan's jaw was still set, and his eyes still conveyed both worry and anger. "You scare me sometimes, Brooke. You really do."

Brooke stiffened. "What are you talking about? That one little slip-up? God, Nathan, I didn't mean it. I'm not suicidal."

"It's not just that," Nathan said tightly.

There was this feeling, just this feeling that Brooke had that this shouldn't be happening. They were going too far, too deep. It was dangerous. But Brooke had never worried about danger before. "What are you saying?" she demanded.

Nathan shook his head. He had obviously come to the same revelation she had. "Never mind," he said.

Brooke didn't like it when people denied her. "Tell me, Nathan," she said firmly. "I want to know."

"Brooke, no," Nathan said. "I don't even know what I was talking about."

"Bullshit," Brooke's voice rose angrily. "Stop being so difficult and tell me."

"There's nothing for me to say," Nathan said. He was obviously struggling to keep the last shreds of his composure.

"You didn't used to be afraid to say what was on your mind," Brooke said viciously, "Haley must have turned you into an awful big pussy."

Nathan slammed on his brakes again. This time Brooke was prepared, expecting it even. What she wasn't expecting was the glare of intense fury written across his face when he looked back at her. She should have been, but she hadn't. He was even angrier than Lucas had been earlier. "That's not even funny, Brooke!" he exploded. "Don't ever say anything like that again!"

"You don't see me laughing, do you?" Brooke said coldly.

"You're such a bitch," Nathan spat.

"So I guess we're gonna start name-calling then," Brooke rolled her eyes. "What's the matter, Nathan? Can't handle the truth?"

"That's the farthest thing from the truth, and you know it!" Nathan yelled.

Brooke sneered. "If you really thought that, then you wouldn't be getting so upset right now," she pointed out.

Nathan fell silent. His shoulders slumped. "You know what?" he said. "I give up. It's not worth it. I'm not fighting with you anymore."

"Because you know you'd lose," Brooke purred in his ear. "You know I'm right, so you've got nothing to fight with."

Nathan turned his head, and Brooke was struck by how close they were, their faces only centimeters apart. "Shut the hell up, Brooke," Nathan said in a raspy, desperate voice.

Brooke paid no heed. "Face it, Nate," she whispered harshly. "Haley's dragged you under so far, you can't even tell which way is up again. She's got you whipped. You can't make a move without getting it approved by her first."

Nathan started at her blankly for a few seconds. Brooke felt uneasy. She had gone too far, and she knew it. Maybe she should apologize. Brooke was seriously considering it for a few seconds. Then, without warning, his lips crashed onto hers. Brooke's eyes shot wide open, and she gasped. She was completely paralyzed with shock. Only one thing seemed run through her mind: This was one hell of a kiss. Nothing compared to it; nobody could match it. Before Brooke could properly return it though, Nathan pulled away.

"Do you think Haley would have approved of that?" he said in a tight voice. Not saying another word, he pulled away from the side of the road and began driving again. He refused to look at her.

Brooke felt like screaming and crying all over again. What she had just said and done, it was sick. What she had just driven Nathan to do…Shit, she really was going to be sick. "Nathan?" she said in a small voice. He ignored her. "Nathan," she repeated urgently.

Luckily, he seemed to sense some of her desperation. It didn't stop him from being furious. "What?" he barked, annoyed.

"Pull over. I'm going to be sick."

Nathan froze. He looked over at Brooke. She really did look pretty green. "Not in my car!" Nathan exclaimed. He brought his car to a screeching halt and unbuckled Brooke's seatbelt for her while she opened the door. Brooke got out just in time to reach some bushes before she started vomiting.

Brooke wasn't all too aware of her surroundings, but she knew at some point during all her puking that she had fallen to her knees, and Nathan had come to her. She could feel his fingers brushing against her neck as he held her hair back.

After she had expelled just about everything there was from her system, Brooke just sat there for a moment, taking in deep gasps of breath that tasted foul in her mouth. She was shaking and sweaty and felt like crying again. It had been such a long night. She was so exhausted. A few tears ran down her cheek. Brooke wiped them away and shut her eyes quickly, mortified. She was such a mess. Nathan must have hated her.

If he did, Nathan did a decent job of covering up. He wrapped an arm around her tentatively. Brooke sighed and leaned into his embrace without thinking. It was so comforting. More comforting than anything else could have been at that moment.

Brooke felt like breaking down and sobbing, right then and there. But she couldn't. She knew she couldn't. For all the crying Brooke had done over the last few days, it had never been uncontrollable, or if it had, never in front of other people. That would make things too real. Besides, she had an image to upkeep. An image of tough, bad-ass Brooke Davis. She couldn't afford to damage it even more.

They stayed like that for a long time. Exhausted from trying to fend off the tears for so long, Brooke began to nod off. Nathan shook her gently. "Come on, Davis," he said. "Time to get you home. No more stops along the way."

His tone was kind, but Brooke couldn't help but cringe at his use of her last name. It was his way of letting her know that he was sympathetic, but things were not okay between them. They probably never would be after what had happened. She just nodded and got up, somewhat awkwardly. The spell was over, the spell that had wiped both of their memories temporarily blank of the kiss, and now they had no idea what to do. But they both knew that now wasn't the time to talk about it. Maybe later, but not now.

The rest of the car ride was in complete silence. This time, Brooke didn't find it nearly so imposing. She welcomed it, in fact. She could have gone on forever, just riding in the car, halfway between consciousness and sleeping, just concentrating on keeping her mind carefully blank.

But nothing was forever, and it wasn't long before they pulled into the parking lot of Nathan's apartment. "Can you make it home all right?" Nathan said flatly. Brooke nodded. There was nothing else to say, so she opened her door and began to climb out. Nathan grabbed her wrist. She twisted around, confused, and he loosened his hold.

"Tomorrow, okay?" he said. "We need to talk tomorrow."

Brooke took a deep breath. "Yeah, tomorrow."

She was dreading tomorrow.

Brooke got in her car. For a few seconds, she just stared at the wheel in front of her. Her mind was completely overrun, and she felt so helpless. She blinked, hard, and sighed. It was time to go home.

Pulling out of the parking lot, she couldn't help but catch Nathan's eyes through her rearview mirror. She was oddly reminded of just a few hours ago, when Nikki had started this whole mess by revealing that Brooke was pregnant. Nathan had looked at her then too, calm and accepting, soothing her. This time, Nathan's expression wasn't nearly as calm or accepting. It was confused and frightened, just as she imagined hers was. But it soothed her just the same, and judging from the way his eyes were softening, she was soothing him too. She knew it was wrong to think, but something about them just felt so right. They understood each other.

Brooke didn't take her gaze off Nathan until he had all but disappeared in her mirror. She shook her head as the memories of their kiss accosted her. It was wrong. Beyond wrong. She had been such a bitch.

Brooke's car swerved a little, and she started with shock. Maybe now wasn't the best time to be thinking about that. For now, she'd just keep her mind clear, free of any thoughts, just as she had been doing for most of the night.

When Brooke reached her house, she ran straight to her bathroom to brush her teeth, scrubbing hard in hopes of erasing the kiss and the sickness that had come afterwards. Afterwards, she stumbled into her room and ripped off her dress but was too tired to slip into a nightshirt. Her underwear would suffice for tonight; it wasn't like anybody else was home. Finally, she allowed her fragmented, broken memories to confront her, and she met them head-on. She wasn't hiding from them anymore.

They raced through her mind mercilessly, like a movie playing in her head with choppy editing. Tears streaked down her face as she revisited the bar where she had revealed to Nikki she was pregnant, and Nathan's apartment where Nikki had told everybody else. She saw herself, nearly hysterical, as she ripped her friends apart, and then screaming until she was hoarse in the pouring rain.

Then she relived the kiss. That god-awful, desperate kiss. It was an act of fury, an act of hatred, and had nothing to do with love. She hadn't expected it. Neither of them had really. She was sure Nathan hadn't even thought about what he was doing until the deed had been done. The kiss from hell that she wished with all her heart she could forget. It was ripping her apart.

But what she really wished she could forget, even more than the kiss, what was really tearing her apart, was how the kiss had made her feel. Of course it was sick and twisted and wrong, and it was never meant to happen. Brooke knew it was true. She wouldn't lie to herself. But some part of her, a surprisingly large part actually, had felt the spark when their lips touched.

Brooke hated herself for it. She really did.

One lone sob tore through the silence of the room. A few seconds later, it was followed by another. And another. Brooke tried her best to stifle them. She couldn't start crying like this now. Not after how hard she had worked to keep them in.

But she was powerless, and the sobs were merciless. They kept coming. Sometime, much later, when the sobs had dissolved into tears, Brooke finally fell asleep.

When Brooke woke up the next morning, it was to the sound of a rock pinging against her window. Actually, it was to the sound of a rock pinging and then breaking through her window. She jumped up, frightened, and wrapped her quilt around her tightly.

"Shit!" a voice swore when the person had realized what he or she had done. Brooke abandoned the quilt and threw a ratty cream-colored silk robe on. She peered hesitantly through her window. It was Nathan. Fuck.

Nathan didn't look too happy either. "I'll pay for that," he promised.

"Like you have the money," Brooke shot back.

Nathan sighed. "Just let me in, Brooke."

Brooke hoped she didn't look as nervous as she really was. "Meet me at the front door," she said. Nathan nodded.

It was all she could do not to bound down the stairs and take them two at a time. Instead, Brooke forced herself to take it slow. She had to remain calm, cool, and most of all, collected. Nathan couldn't suspect a thing. He could never know how he had affected her last night.

She opened the door reluctantly and let Nathan step inside. "Took you long enough," he muttered. Brooke cocked a brow. Had she really overdone it or was Nathan just anxious to see her?

"Yeah, well…" Brooke muttered. Too late, she realized that she didn't really have anything to say.

Nathan looked back at her. "Well what?" he snapped.

Brooke shrugged lamely. "I'm not exactly sure."

Nathan rolled his eyes. It made Brooke wince, but she wasn't exactly sure why. It wasn't like she needed his approval.

But, as much as she denied it to herself, she _wanted_ his approval. Badly.

"So I bet everyone was pretty annoyed last night when you finally called them last night," Brooke said tentatively, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, they were," Nathan said sharply. "But you can't really blame them, can you?"

Brooke winced. "No," she said softly. "No, I can't."

"Didn't think so," he said.

Brooke sighed. An awkward silence filled the room. Neither of them wanted to talk about what they really had to talk about, but they knew that somebody had to bring it up. It was just a question of who would make the first move.

It was now or never. Brooke took a deep breath. "So about last night…"

"I'm sorry," Nathan said.

Wide eyes met his apology. Brooke had been expecting to beg and plead for forgiveness until she keeled over. What did he have to be sorry for? She had been the one to instigate everything. She had been a total bitch last night.

"You're sorry?" Brooke finally repeated uncertainly.

"Yeah," Nathan said, "I am. Really. Forgive me?"

"For what?" Brooke asked incredulously.

Nathan looked supremely uncomfortable. He shifted slightly. "For what I did last night. For kissing you."

"But that was my fault," Brooke said, furrowing a brow. What drugs was he on? Did he not remember anything that had happened?

It was Nathan's turn to look surprised. "But I was the one who started it," he argued.

"But I acted like…" Brooke trailed off. "Wait," she said slowly, "are we arguing over who gets to take the blame?"

Nathan thought about it for a second and nodded, "Yeah. We are."

Brooke smirked. "I bet we sound pretty stupid."

"Yeah," Nathan grinned back. "I bet we do." A strange expression crossed over his face. He shook his head firmly. "No," he said, mostly to himself. He looked back down at Brooke. "We can't try to play this off as if it never happened."

"Why not?" Brooke asked desperately.

"Because we kissed, Brooke! We kissed last night. It was not a small thing," Nathan said.

"Yes, it was!" Brooke exclaimed. "Remember, back before Hal--" Brooke thought better of mentioning her name, "—back before all this, all this drama? Kissing was never a big thing. God, having sex was like, not even worth mentioning most of the time. It was no big deal."

"It was different then," Nathan countered. "We've changed. I've changed. Kissing you was betraying Haley."

"All the more reason not to tell her," Brooke reasoned. "You and I, we know that kissing doesn't have to always mean something. But Haley, she's different. She's one of those naïve little girls who still thinks that someday her prince will come rescue her from her fairytale castle. To her, kissing is like, I don't know, like sharing your soul or something. We know better, Nathan. We know it's not a big thing. She doesn't. She'll say you cheated on her."

"I did cheat on her," Nathan said morosely.

"Nathan," Brooke said patiently. "It was one kiss. One kiss barely counts as cheating. Besides, you didn't even want the kiss, so really, it doesn't count at all. Don't tear Haley apart by making her think you did something way worse than what actually happened."

Nathan massaged his temples. He nodded. "You're right," he sighed. "I'm being an idiot."

"No, you're not," Brooke said. Her voice was touched with jealousy. For Haley. "You're just being a loyal boyfriend."

"Thanks, Brooke," Nathan said. "I guess I should go now."

"It'd probably be for the best," Brooke agreed. "Go out with Haley to the mall or something. Do something fun. Forget this ever happened."

"I should do that," Nathan said. He and Brooke reached the front door. She opened it. "See ya around."

Brooke nodded. She smiled, "Bye, Nate."

Nathan walked out, and Brooke shut the door behind him, hearing the click as it locked into place. She leaned back against it and swallowed. For some reason, there was a lump in her throat. Her eyes were getting kind of watery too.

A soft knock on the door startled her. Who could it be? Had they seen Nathan just walk out? Did they suspect anything? Was there anything to suspect? Brooke peered through the peephole and relaxed. It was just Nathan again. She forced herself not to get excited. He had probably just forgotten something. Brooke racked her mind, trying to think of something he could have left behind. She came up with nothing. Then why was he here?

As if in slow motion, Brooke saw Nathan begin to turn away. Her eyes widened, and she threw open the door. "Nathan?" she said breathlessly from a mini-panic attack. Nathan turned, surprised. Brooke cocked a brow. "Did you just knock?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Nathan stood dumbly for a few seconds before shaking himself out of it with a start. "Yeah, actually I did," he said, "I didn't think you would hear…" He cut himself short. "Anyway, I had a question."

Brooke nodded him on. "What is it?"

"Well," Nathan said. He was looking anywhere but her. Which was kind of hard, considering her robe was coming awfully loose. She seemed to notice this and blushed, pulling it tighter around her. "It's a hypothetical one, really. There's not that much use in even asking."

"Just spit it out, Nathan," Brooke advised.

Nathan took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. He seemed to be gathering his courage. He seemed to be looking past her, or above her, just not at her. "What you said about that whole 'it doesn't count as cheating if you didn't really want it' thing…"

His eyes finally locked on hers.

"What if I did want it?"


	9. Can't Be Like This

**She Don't Dream For Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own_ One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Nine:** Can't Be Like This

Brooke's breath caught.

"_What did you say_?"

Nathan looked alarmed. A horrified expression passed over his face, as if for the first time he realized what he was doing. "Just hypothetical," he stammered. "It wasn't like I actually wanted it."

Brooke leveled a disbelieving stare on him. Surely, he knew better than to think she would buy that. Brooke was anything but stupid when it came to boys. She could read them very well.

Nathan wasn't stupid either. He knew how transparent his excuse was. "Okay," he sighed. "Maybe I did want it. Just a little. But I'm thinking it was just because last night I was confused and tired and frustrated as hell."

Brooke frowned. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Yeah," Nathan said, "but I can't help but still feel guilty."

"Just don't," Brooke sighed. Why did she have to feel so disappointed but what he said? She knew there would never, could never, be anything between them. "Nathan, you and I both know it didn't mean anything. You were confused; I was pissed; it just happened. Let's just forget about it, and save the bullshit for another day, okay?"

Nathan nodded. "All right. Maybe it's for the best."

"It is," Brooke assured him. Somehow, she kept a straight face. "You have to pick your battles, Nate. This isn't one of them."

They paused for a moment at her words. Brooke made a face.

"The whole Socrates philosophical thing doesn't work for me, does it?"

"No," Nathan said, shaking his head with a smile, "It really doesn't. Besides, I don't even think Socrates said that, did he?"

Brooke shrugged defensively. "It could have been. You never know."

"Whatever," Nathan said. A few pauses of silence left the two looking extremely uncomfortable. "So what were you doing before I came?" he finally spoke.

"Sleeping," Brooke said. "Remember? You threw that rock through my window to wake me up."

"Oh yeah," Nathan said. "I'll pay for that."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you already offered. Forget about it."

"No, really," Nathan argued. "I want to."

"But I don't want you to," Brooke said. "I don't need your money."

"I guess that's one thing we have in common," Nathan laughed, "or at least we used to anyway."

"Oh, I'm sure we have plenty more in common," Brooke said absentmindedly.

Nathan cocked an eyebrow, "Like what?"

"We're both hotter than hell," Brooke smirked. Nathan looked surprised and mildly impressed. "What?" Brooke shrugged. "It's the truth. You know it, I know it, and everybody who's ever seen us knows it. I'm not afraid of admitting it."

"You are one cocky bitch, Brooke," Nathan shook his head.

"I would've said the same to you once, Scott," Brooke said. "In fact, I did. A lot. But then, well, Haley changed you." Nathan looked defensive. Brooke waved him off. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I'm just saying she did. You're not the same person anymore."

"I thought girls liked nice guys," Nathan said.

Brooke gave him a hard stare. "Some girls like guys just for who he is. Cocky bastard or not."

Nathan cleared his throat. Normally, he'd have some teasing comeback all lined up to defuse the situation, but this was different. He couldn't flirt with Brooke. Not even playfully. Not right now, after all that had just happened between them. Maybe, eventually, he could. In a hundred years, maybe.

Brooke wanted to hit herself. What was wrong with her? Her brain seemed to be shut off lately. The little filter that censored all the stupid things she wanted to say before they left her mouth seemed to be going haywire. She needed that filter. She depended on that filter. Where was it when she wanted it the most?

"So, what are your plans for the day?" Nathan finally asked, working towards diffusing the awkward situation.

Brooke shrugged. "Hang around here, I guess. I'm sure plenty of people are dying to drop by and tell me how pissed they are."

"Sounds like fun," Nathan laughed.

"Been trying to plan something like this all year," Brooke said dryly.

"I should probably leave then," Nathan said. "Wouldn't want anyone to get any ideas..."

"About what?" Brooke challenged.

Nathan gave her a look. "Don't be such a hard ass."

"Hey," Brooke said, "this is just a warm-up for when Blondie comes."

"Which one?" Nathan retorted.

"Good question," Brooke said. "Both, I guess."

Nathan laughed. "All right then. See you, Brooke."

"Yeah, see you," she said, shutting the door behind him as he walked down her driveway.

Brooke stared regretfully at her closed door. She was sad to see Nathan go. Surprisingly, she liked his company. A lot. A lot more than she should have, in fact.

A rumbling stomach snapped Brooke out of her reverie. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday, no wonder she was so hungry. Brooke walked into the kitchen, craving something, anything. The hunger pains that washed over her were intense. She looked down at her stomach fondly. She was eating for two now after all. Brooke placed a hand on her stomach with a sigh.

Just as she had done it, Brooke dropped the hand to her side, horrified. The thoughts that had just run through her head...calm thoughts, soothed thoughts, _motherly _thoughts. She shouldn't be having those sorts of thoughts. If she did, it would just make it that much harder to actually go through with the abortion she was planning on.

Brooke ruffled through the pantry. Shit. They were out of cereal. And bread. Their housekeeper must have forgotten to go shopping this week. An annoyed glare fixed itself on Brooke's face. She ought to fire that woman. There was absolutely no excuse for this.

Then Brooke remembered, she _had_ fired the housekeeper. Sometime last week, in fact, when Brooke had been having some particularly nasty mood swings. So they were out of food because Brooke had never thought to buy anything.

She turned to the refrigerator, where she found all of three things. Milk, ketchup, and eggs. Terrific. Brooke made a face. She didn't really like eggs, and she had no idea how to cook them, but it was her only choice. It couldn't be that hard to cook them. She had watched the housekeeper make them all the time. It took like five minutes.

Brooke took out an egg and a bowl and smashed the egg against the side, just like she had witnessed the housekeeper do. Obviously, it wasn't that simple, Brooke realized as egg splattered everywhere. "Shit!" she swore, disgusted as the slimy contents of the egg oozed all over her hand, dripping onto the counter and floor. "This really sucks."

Brooke considered cleaning it up, but she was beyond hungry. It could wait. Disregarding the puddles of potential salmonella, she took out another egg, making sure to tap it softer this time.

_It sort of worked, _Brooke made a face. Did it really matter if a few pieces of the shell were in there? She picked out as much as she could but was sure that there was some she missed.

_Who cares? _Brooke thought. _I just want some food._

She took out spoon and mixed the contents around for a little bit, before pouring on a pan she had set on a preheated stove. _That takes care of that. _In five minutes, she'd be set.

The doorbell rang.

Unbidden, a picture of Nathan sprung to her head. _As if, Brooke, _she berated herself mentally, _you need to get this whole crush thing out of your head. You cannot have a crush on Nathan. He's practically married_.

"Brooke?" a voice called, rapping on the door a few times. Her face twisted. She recognized that voice. It wasn't Nathan.

"Just a second," Brooke called back sweetly, the expression on her face anything but. She rolled her eyes and pulled her robe tighter around her as she walked lazily towards her door.

She pulled it open. "What do you want?" she asked rudely.

Lucas sighed. His expression turned sour like he was trying to hold back something he really wanted to say. Something that would probably make Brooke slam the door in his face. "Can I come in?" he asked instead.

"I'd rather you didn't," Brooke said, but held the door open for him all the same.

Lucas walked straight towards her living room. It killed Brooke seeing how well he knew his way around. Seeing him feeling so at home, so familiar, reminded her of the many days, and even more nights, they had spent here together.

"Brooke," Lucas sat stiffly on her couch. It made Brooke feel a little better. At least he knew he wasn't welcome like he had been before. Lucas stayed silent for a while as if trying to figure out how to word what he was going to say. "You're pregnant," he finally said.

Brooke raised a brow. Obviously, they were taking the direct approach. "You noticed," Brooke said dryly.

Lucas clenched his fist. "Brooke, you can't be like this."

"Like what?" Brooke challenged.

"Like...like the way you are," Lucas struggled.

Brooke scoffed. "Nicely put. From the way your mom talked about you, I figured you were one of the smart kids."

"You can't do this!" Lucas exploded.

"That's funny. Last I checked, this was my house, which you are very lucky to be in right now," Brooke retorted angrily. "So you better just say what you want to say, minus the orders, okay? I'm completely ready to kick your ass out."

"Brooke..." Lucas took a deep breath. "This baby, it's ours. As much as you don't want to admit it, I'm the father. I need to be in this baby's life. I need to help you."

"No, you don't," Brooke said harshly. "You don't _need _to do this. Just like you didn't need to tell me that you were fucking Peyton behind my back. You didn't need to take one second to consider how crushed I'd be if I ever found out. Which I was, you know."

Lucas raised a brow. "You were?"

Brooke squeezed her eyes shut. Another brilliant, half-thought out comment by Brooke Davis. She never ceased to amaze herself with how stupid she could be. "Yeah," she finally said. "I was. You should have known that."

"I should have," Lucas repeated. "I really should have. I screwed up, Brooke. But so did you."

"Me?" Brooke said incredulously. "I loved you. I gave you everything I had. I opened up to you more than I've ever opened up to anyone else before. Sorry if I'm not seeing my mistake right now."

Lucas shook his head. "Not about that. I'm talking about you not telling me about the baby." He paused and thought his words over, "Well, not the truth, anyway."

"I did tell you the truth," Brooke said indifferently.

"But then you lied about it!" Lucas cried, frustrated. "I could have helped you through this. I told you I would help you through this. What the hell were you thinking, Brooke?

Angry tears escaped Brooke's eyes as she screamed back at him. "I don't know! Maybe how you betrayed me? I didn't want you to be the father of my baby!"

Was she ever going to get through to him? Would he ever understand just how much he hurt her?

Lucas took a step back. He swallowed, hard. "I've already said I'm sorry."

"Well then say it again," Brooke said quietly. "And again, and again. Say it until I'm ready to forgive you for what you did. Don't give up on me, Lucas. I deserve that, at least."

Lucas looked shocked at first. Then, gradually, his shock faded into understanding and acceptance. "You're right," he agreed. "You do deserve that. And I'm ready to say I'm sorry for the rest of the day. And tomorrow. And the day after that. As long as it takes for you to believe me."

Brooke's lips curved into a sad smile. This was the boy she had fallen in love with. The boy who had meant everything to her, the boy she knew would never hurt her. This side of Lucas was becoming scarce lately. "Good," she said. "But why don't you go ahead and start tomorrow? I've got a headache, and I don't feel like having to deal with you following me around saying you're sorry every few seconds."

"You got it," Lucas said. "Our baby doesn't need to see his mom and dad fighting all the time. I want him to grow up with loving parents." Brooke looked at him, askance. She opened her mouth to speak, when Lucas cut in, sniffing the air with a distasteful look on his face. "I'm sorry, but what is that smell?"

Brooke shut her mouth and sniffed the air tentatively. Her face twisted, disgusted. Suddenly her eyes widened in realization. "My breakfast!" she cried, dashing to the kitchen.

Five minutes later, Brooke had scraped what was left of her supposed-to-be breakfast off the frying pan, looking distinctly disgruntled. "I hate cooking," she said gloomily.

"It wasn't that bad," Lucas tried to reassure her. "Sure,they got a little burned, but overall..."

"They were flat," Brooke said point-blank. "They were flat, and they were neon, and they stuck to the pan as if I had put superglue on them."

Lucas nodded reluctantly. "Okay, so it's not the way my mom's pancakes turn out, but..."

"They weren't pancakes," Brooke corrected. "They were scrambled eggs."

Lucas snorted. He couldn't help it. "I'm sorry," he paused. It was like his staple start to every sentence now. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No," Brooke said flatly, "I'm not. I wish I was though. I'm really hungry."

"I could take you out to get breakfast or something," Lucas offered.

Brooke's eyebrow shot up, something she had picked up after seeing her mother shoot that exact same look towards her father every time he opened his mouth.

"Just as a friend...ly...friendly type...thing, of course," Lucas said hastily, struggling with his word choice. Neither of them knew exactly where they stood with each other.

Brooke considered it, for a few moments. She really was hungry... "All right, Lucas Scott," she grinned, "You're on. I could go for a friendly type breakfast thing."

Lucas grinned sheepishly. "Great," he said. Unbidden, and somewhat wistfully, his eyes traveled down her body, lingering on the bare expanse of her legs and the hanging, loose fabric barely covering her chest. He realized what he was doing and coughed lamely. "I'll wait for you to change."

"You mean, you don't like the way I'm dressed?" Brooke teased.

Lucas flushed. "It's not like that. I like it very much, but..." he sighed and shook his head. "You always knew how to get me all worked up."

"It's my specialty," Brooke whispered in his ear huskily as she brushed past him on her way upstairs. "Face it, Scott," she called smugly as she climbed up the stairs. "I know how to wrap you around my little finger."

Lucas smiled ruefully. She was right.

Not (much) long after, Brooke strolled cat-like down her stairs again where Lucas was waiting at the bottom, leaning against her stair rail.

"Now, tell me, Lucas," she teased. "How long did you practice that move?"

"Practice?" Lucas did his best to look affronted. "I did no such thing. I'm just kind of a casual pose kind of guy."

Brooke smirked. Then her face twisted, confused. When had they crossed over into this? Only an hour ago, they were at each other's throats, and now they were doing their little flirty banter dance? How had that happened? Why was everything going so fast?

Lucas frowned, concerned. "You okay, Brooke?"

Brooke blinked, hard, and nodded. Yes, she was okay. She smiled. It was the smile that made over half the guys in her school fall in love, or at least in lust, with her. She hadn't completely forgiven Lucas yet, nor had she completely healed. Enough time hadn't passed for that. But she was moving in the right direction. It was nice, talking to him, the nice version of him. She had missed this. "Yeah, I'm good," she assured him. She bounced down the rest of the stairs and tapped his cheek as she walked by. "Come on, let's go. I'm hungry, and somebody promised to pay for breakfast."

"I never..." Lucas began to protest but stopped himself, his lips curving upwards. "Okay," he said. "You got it."

"I thought so," Brooke smirked.

Breakfast was filled with more teasing and laughing. Lucas had taken her to Denny's, which wasn't her preferred choice of dining, but when someone else was paying she had no right to be picky, where they had requested for a secluded booth in the back. She had wolfed down her breakfast so fast even Lucas, who was a pretty intense eater, Brooke reflected, looked alarmed.

"What?" she said defensively. "I'm hungry."

Lucas chuckled and looked at her stomach thoughtfully. "Well, you are eating for two." He stared at her stomach for a few seconds longer, a pensive expression on his face. "I have to admit, it's scary as hell knowing that we're going to be parents this young, but at the same time, I can't say I hate the idea. We've handled a lot this year. Nothing as huge as a baby or anything, but I just can't help but picture a little boy dribbling a basketball around or a girl in bows and dresses. What do you think it will be?"

Brooke shifted uneasily. She had meant to tell him. "Well, about that, Lucas," she said, trying to decide how to approach such a sensitive topic.

Lucas sensed her discomfort. He always did. "What's wrong?" he asked sharply. "Is there something wrong? Is there something about the baby you're not telling me?"

Brooke sighed heavily. "Yeah, actually, there is." She paused, biting her lip.

Lucas waited expectantly.

She took a deep breath. There was no backing down. It wasn't fair to keep this secret from him too.

"I'm not having the baby, Lucas."


	10. Something You Do

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Ten: **Something You Do

Lucas dropped the fork he had been holding, and it fell with a clatter onto his mostly empty plate of French toast. It was the only sound at their table for a few minutes. Brooke shifted anxiously.

_He never did like the crusts very much_, Brooke thought absently as she studied his plate, looking anywhere but him.

Lucas sputtered once or twice, opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the words he needed.

"You're _what_?" he finally managed to get out.

Brooke swallowed, hard. "I-I'm getting an abortion, Luke," she said, her tone considerably less firm.

"But…" Lucas protested. "You…you can't."

Shaking her head, Brooke opened her mouth again. She had to make him understand. "Luke…"

"No, _no_," Lucas said, his voice steadily rising, "I'm not hearing this."

Brooke winced. This was not going as well as she had hoped.

"I can't have this baby, Lucas," she reasoned.

"Why not?" Lucas said harshly. He hit his hand against the table and clenched his teeth. His head began to shake back and forth before she could explain. "You know what?" he cut her off. "Just…no. This isn't something we should be talking about here. Let's wait till we get back to your house or my house or _something_."

Brooke nodded weakly as Lucas called for the check. She reached into her pocket to pull out the money for her breakfast, but he stopped her. She stared at him, confused.

He had a nasty grimace on his face. "We decided that I'm paying, remember?" he said coldly.

Brooke bristled and opened her mouth to speak when the waitress came to pick up the bill, too soon for Brooke to protest and lay out her own money. Lucas smirked and walked out of the booth without another word, forcing her to scamper after. Her jaw clenched in annoyance. Only he was capable of keeping his promises to a fault.

He was already waiting in his stalled car when Brooke climbed in. Silently, he pulled out of the Denny's parking lot. His face was hard and cold, seemingly etched out of stone. Brooke was sure her expression mirrored his. That whole restaurant debacle had seriously pissed her off.

It turned out Lucas couldn't even wait till they had reached either of their houses before he started tearing into her. "Abortion," he said, his voice cool, "You've thought this through for days and days, maybe even weeks, and abortion was the best you could come up with?"

"Yes," Brooke said evenly, her tone matching his, "It's what's best for me."

"What about me, Brooke?" Lucas demanded, and he took his eyes off the road to glare at her. "This isn't your baby; it's _our_ baby."

"But I'm the one that has to go through a nine month pregnancy," she said. "I'll be the one who has to be with it at night when it's up screaming and crying, and it'll be my reputation that's ruined."

"That's what you're worried about?" Lucas cried disbelievingly. "Your _reputation_?" He shook his head and paused for a moment before revving up again. "Well, I can't do anything about that," he retorted, "but as far as I'm concerned, you don't even have to see this baby once it's born. We can work out a Nikki-Jake relationship."

"So I can be the wicked, bitter bitch mommy that has to watch Peyton raise my kid?" Brooke scoffed. "I don't think so."

"Could you put aside your own stupid insecurities and social appearances thing to think about this for one second?" Lucas snapped. "I didn't say you couldn't be in the baby's life. I want you to be in the baby's life. But most importantly, I want this baby to have a life. And I'll do anything for that to happen, even if it means being a full-time Dad."

Brooke sighed and turned a steely gaze towards the window. "I have thought about this, Lucas. And, however stupid you think my reasons might be, I have them, and I already decided that I can't have this baby."

"Can't or won't?" Lucas sneered.

"Both," Brooke said. "But mostly can't. Do you know what will happen to me if I go through with this? Do you?"

"You'll get kicked off the A-list?" Lucas asked sarcastically.

She had never glared at him with such an intensity, not even when she had gone to him to tell him she knew about him and Peyton cheating. She felt a streak of vindication when he shrunk back a little. "If that were all I cared about," she said, her voice surprisingly calm, "then I'd be a pretty shallow person." Her tone grew stronger. "But, no, that's not it. If I carry this baby for nine months, I don't care how clueless my parents are, they will find out about this. And when they find out about this, I'll be kicked out so fast my ass won't even be able to feel it. I'm sure it'll be good for the baby, being raised in the streets and all."

Lucas looked somewhat abashed but remained determined. "You could move in with us," he said stubbornly.

"Right," Brooke scoffed, "that would be the only logical thing to do, since your mom barely makes enough to support the two of you, let alone two more."

Lucas remained silent for a few moments, a calculating expression on his face as he studied her. "You really have thought about this, haven't you?" he said softly. Brooke nodded her head and looked away. A honk snapped them both into reality.

"Jesus, Luke!" Brooke shrieked as an oncoming truck barreled towards them. Somehow they had crossed over into the other lane. "Watch where you're going!"

Lucas swore and jerked his wheel back over to the right, pulling them across both lanes and straight into a ditch. Brooke felt her body being thrown forward, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her stomach, while out of the corner of her eye she saw Lucas's head hit the dashboard. She winced, and all of the sudden, it was over, and the car was still.

"Shit," Lucas said, letting out a long breath. "Are you okay, Brooke?"

"Pretty sure I am," Brooke squeaked, her own breath still coming in fast, short gasps. "Don't think I'll be riding in a car anytime soon again though. Lately, they haven't been going so good for me."

Lucas laughed weakly with relief and settled back against his seat. He looked sort of dazed. Brooke watched worriedly as he put a hand to his head.

"Are you all right?" she asked. Something was strange about him. He hadn't stopped laughing yet.

"Yeah," Lucas chuckled. "Just too much. All at once. Just sort of…dizzy…"

Brooke's eyes widened. His answer hadn't calmed her at all. "Lucas," she demanded, "What's wrong with you?"

"Sort of dizzy," Lucas said vaguely. The laughter that had worried Brooke so much had stopped, but still, she wasn't soothed.

"You already said that," Brooke said slowly. "Is there anything else?"

"Dizzy," Lucas repeated. "My head hurts."

"Goddamn it," Brooke cursed. She had been a cheerleader long enough to see a number of basketball players carted off the court with concussions. Lucas was showing some definite signs.

Lucas made a face. "Jesus," he said as he clutched his head tightly. "Why does it hurt so much?"

Leaning towards him, Brooke slapped him across the cheek lightly for him to pay attention. "Lucas, I'm going to need you to switch places with me," she instructed, addressing him in the same tone she might have used if he had been a three year old. She had no idea if she was doing the right thing or not.

Luckily, Lucas was pretty obedient, even when he had no idea what was going on, and he hoisted himself unsteadily behind her as she crawled over to the seat he was vacating. She situated herself just in time to steady him as he fell back against her seat.

_Too much_, her mind echoed Lucas's words as she started up the car again and shifted the gear into reverse. _Too much too much too much too much too much_.

The car rocked back and forth as she tried to force it out of the ditch. For a second, it looked like it would actually work, when the car gave a sudden jerk and fell sharply back into place.

"Oh man," Brooke groaned. She looked helplessly over at Lucas, who was clutching his head, his eyes squeezed shut. "What am I supposed to do?"

A cell phone glinted tantalizingly near the gearshift. She glanced quickly over at a still preoccupied Lucas and snatched it. "Sorry, buddy," she shrugged, unconcerned, "Don't know what your minute plan is, but I'm gonna need this."

Brooke dialed the first number that came to mind, willing for the person to pick up quickly. Lucas was concussed, she was nervous, and despite how unimportant it was, she had a suspicion that Lucas didn't have actually have a spectacular amount of minutes to use. She had rarely seen him use the phone, and he never lent it to anybody.

"Hello?" a voice picked up on the other end.

Brooke was more than relieved as she heard him. "Nathan," she sighed. "Thank god."

"Brooke?" he asked curiously. "What's up?"

"I kind of need your help," she explained quickly. "Something happened."

There was an edge to Nathan's tone as he replied. "Sure," he said, trying to sound neutral. "What's wrong?"

"Lucas and I," Brooke thought she heard some type of dissatisfied grunt on Nathan's end, but she couldn't be sure. "We're sort of in a bind. There was almost an accident, and the car ran into a ditch, and I think Lucas might have a concussion and…"

"Where are you?" Nathan asked sharply.

"That little country road near Denny's," Brooke said, trying to think of the name. "God, um, Miller, I think."

"Okay," Nathan said, "I'll be right there." Before Brooke could thank him, he hung up.

Brooke hung up as well and looked over at Lucas again with a sigh. He was pale and shaky, and the pupils of his eyes were oddly enlarged. She knew concussions weren't terribly serious or anything, but she couldn't help but worry. She fingered a lock of his stick-straight hair. "Why do I have to care about you so much?" Even after all the fights, the cheating, the _everything_, she couldn't stop herself.

Surprisingly, Lucas answered. "It's just something you do," he murmured. "Something I do too."

A soft, sad smile crossed her face. "You don't know what you're saying."

Lucas remained silent. He shut his eyes again and leaned his forehead against the window.

It was fast, just a flash, but for a moment, Brooke felt her heart give that familiar pull. "Jesus," she said under her breath. He always did this to her. Always. And she hated him for it. It would be so much easier if she could just stay pissed at him. It would be so much safer.

An approaching car managed to erase Brooke's disturbed thoughts from her mind. She looked in her rearview mirror and was immediately comforted at the sight of Nathan pulling up beside her. His car came to screeching halt, and he jumped out. Brooke eased herself out of Lucas's car too.

"Are you okay?" Nathan demanded as he hurried down the ditch to them.

"Fine," she assured him, enveloping him in a hug as he reached her. Nathan pulled away slightly to fix a serious, searching gaze on her, and she nodded to enforce her point. "I promise," she said. She gave him one last squeeze and dropped her arms. He did the same. "I just want to get Lucas checked out," she continued. "He seems to have it pretty bad."

Nathan peered through the window to see Lucas nodding off against the window, his fists clenched tightly. "Definitely a good idea," he agreed and walked over to Lucas's side of the car. He knocked on the window until he was sure Lucas was wide awake and opened the door, hauling Lucas out by the arm. Lucas stumbled back a step and Nathan was unprepared for the sudden weight, but Brooke raced over to help. With Lucas's arms slung around Brooke and Nathan's shoulders, the trio made their way up to the top of the ditch to Nathan's car.

"Geez, Luke," Brooke panted as they neared the top. "I thought you worked out."

Lucas gave some groggy, unintelligible answer, and Brooke and Nathan shot each other concerned glances. Brooke must have let more of her worry shine through than she usually allowed, because Nathan began reassuring _her_. "I've seen guys like this a bunch," he said, opening the door to his car, "He should be fine after we get him to the doctor. It'll all be okay."

"I know that," Brooke said sharply as she helped ease Lucas into the backseat. She slipped in front of Nathan and leaned down to secure Lucas's seatbelt. She tried her best to hold her breath as she hovered just inches above him to prevent the ragged gasps of air she knew would escape if she dared to breathe, but she couldn't resist, and just before she pulled away, she took a long inhale.

An image suddenly played in her mind. It was if she was seeing herself, running, distracted, and Nathan coming from the opposite direction, preoccupied as well. Neither looking up, it was only a matter of seconds before they collided, and Brooke collapsed against his chest.

Brooke slowly opened her eyes, smiling. Lucas's scent was nearly identical to Nathan's.

"You about done?" Nathan asked impatiently behind her. His voice was touched with irritation. But from what? Jealousy?

_Hah_, Brooke thought wryly, _You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?_ Somewhat reluctantly, she pulled herself away, and turned. She let out a small "oh!" of surprise when she spun around to find Nathan only inches away.

Nathan swallowed, hard. He had been planning on hurrying over to the driver's side of the car as Brooke had begun to straighten back up again, but for some reason, he had been rooted into place. "So I guess we should go," he said uncomfortably. His feet felt like they had been super-glued to the asphalt.

"Yeah," Brooke said, uneasy as well. "I guess we should." When Nathan showed no signs of moving, she carefully slid away from him, their eyes trained on one another the whole time, and she got into the car. Nathan followed suit.

"Should we be going a little faster?" Brooke fretted as Nathan drove in the direction of the hospital, going at least ten miles over the speed limit.

"Not unless you want to make a hobby out of being in car crashes," Nathan retorted.

Brooke sighed and leaned back against her seat. "I just don't want anything to happen. I feel so guilty."

Nathan looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You have nothing to feel guilty about," he assured her. "Why would you even say that?"

"I told Lucas about my decision about this pregnancy," Brooke said, "He wasn't too happy about it. In fact, he kind of freaked."

"I can see where he's coming from," Nathan said, "but I still don't think the wreck was your fault."

Brooke shrugged listlessly. Let him think what he wanted to think. She knew the truth, and that was all that mattered. A shorted period of silence ensued.

"So, um," Nathan began to restore the conversation and his sanity in the car. He had lost control of his sanity so many times, he was afraid it would run away for good soon. "What did you decide about the baby anyway?"

Brooke winced at the term _baby_. "I'd really rather not talk about that right now," she pleaded. "Maybe later."

Nathan just nodded. "Got it. No baby talk. Okay, then, we can talk about…"

"Nathan? Brooke?" a groggy voice called from the backseat. "What's going on?"

"Luke!" Brooke cried in relief. She wasted no time in yanking out her seatbelt and climbing into the back to sit with him. "Are you feeling better?"

"My head hurts," Lucas admitted, "and I'm a little fuzzy on what's been going on for the last…" he squinted at the clock, "…half hour."

"Poor guy," Brooke said sympathetically.

Nathan rolled his eyes in the front. Last he had heard, Brooke was being an icy bitch towards desperate Lucas, and now all of the sudden she was all over him? When had this happened? He glanced back at them in the rearview mirror. They were huddled close, murmuring quietly. Disgusted, he tore his gaze away. It made him sick to watch them. He wasn't exactly sure why.

_Yeah, you do_, a small voice sneered in the back of his mind. _You don't like watching her with another guy, especially Lucas_.

But that didn't make sense. Why would it matter to him whether Brooke was with other guys?

_Jealousy…_

He had Haley. There was no reason to be jealous. He _loved_ Haley.

Didn't he?

Meanwhile, in the backseat, Brooke and Lucas were falling into a tired, old habit. They had already covered the basics. Brooke had explained to Lucas about the concussion and where they were going, and surprisingly, Lucas had revealed that he remembered what Brooke had told him and most of their argument up until their near crash with the truck. Now, they were back to discussing the baby, although they seemed to disagree on everything. "Don't preach, Luke," Brooke warned softly. "I know what abortion involves."

"I just wish there were another way," Lucas insisted.

"There's not," Brooke said. "Trust me, I've thought of everything."

Lucas sighed. "But abortion is just so…"

"You said you'd support me no matter what I did last time," Brooke pointed out quickly.

"I thought you'd keep the baby then," Lucas confessed. "Even if it was only to make sure that Peyton and I stayed apart."

Brooke turned pale with fury. "I can't believe you just said that."

Lucas realized his mistake and was instantly apologetic. "That didn't come out the way I meant it at all," he tried to explain.

"There aren't too many ways you can mean something like that," Brooke said, her tone even.

"It's been a long morning, Brooke."

Lucas was trying to sidestep yet another argument, and it was painfully obvious to both of them. He was never that good at covering his tracks. Brooke gave one last annoyed huff, but let the remark slide, just this once.

"That was a pretty shitty thing to say," Brooke replied coolly. "And you're lucky I'm still talking to you."

"Very," Lucas nodded.

"Don't try to humor me," Brooke said. Her voice was warning, letting him know that this was not the right time to push his luck.

Lucas was about to respond when Nathan cut him off. "Okay, everybody out," he said tightly, bringing the car to a halt, "Time to see if Luke permanently damaged his head."

Brooke raised a brow at his tone. What was bothering him? Again, he almost sounded…but no, he couldn't be. They had both agreed to put everything behind them just this morning. Not that he had had much to put behind because it had simply been a heat-of-the-moment fluke thing for him, but she had been at least trying. Her eyes caught his, and she felt something flip inside of her. She attempted to change her expression to one of haughtiness and forced herself to look away. It was hard to admit that, if she let herself, she could feel the same way about him as she did with Lucas.

_Almost falling for two guys who don't want you in the same day_, Brooke berated herself. _Geez, Davis, are you trying to turn into Theresa?_

She might as well just curl up and die if that ever happened.


	11. Alienation

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill_ or anything related to it._

**Chapter Eleven: **Alienation

Surprisingly, it didn't take long to check Lucas in, and the wait in the waiting room wasn't too long, although it might have seemed longer because of the uncomfortable silence that had settled over all of them. Brooke tried not to think of how she would have acted a few weeks ago, probably bouncing off the walls and cajoling Lucas into playing with the kids' toys, sharing with him how each and every one of them could be used for something dirty. He probably would have blushed, but laughed too, and shut her up with a kiss. He had always been good at that.

The door to the examining room hall opened. "Lucas Scott?" a nurse called from the doorway. "Darcy" her name tag proclaimed. She was young and pretty, Brooke noted listlessly, with soft brown curls and warm eyes of matching color. Her makeup was done perfectly, while Brooke knew her own was half done and had been smudged at some point, probably while flying into the ditch.

"Right here," Lucas raised a hand in greeting, rising up from beside Brooke. A scowl marred Brooke's features as she recognized the glimmer of attraction in his eyes as he walked over to the nurse.

She smiled. Of course her teeth looked like they had been brushed with bleach every morning, mockingly reminding Brooke of her short encounter with Jeremy Ronz. Brooke tried to expel his name from her mind, but for some reason she couldn't forget the way she had let him paw at her. It had been fun at the time, but now? Now, it made her feel even worse.

A glimmer again from the nurse caused a fresh bout of annoyance to wash over Brooke again. _She probably had some type of surgery for that_, Brooke reassured herself, _so did he_. "Right this way," Darcy directed, still flashing those blinding teeth of hers. "My name's Darcy."

Lucas nodded, already well aware. So was pretty much everyone else there. Did she not realize she had a freaking name tag? To Brooke's chagrin, however, he did not seem to share this annoyance with her. "Lucas," he introduced himself, giving her an equally bright smile.

They disappeared behind the door, chattering amicably.

"So I'm thinking that woman could be a cover model for Crest Whitestrips," Brooke whispered to Nathan.

Nathan looked up from his magazine, a sports one naturally, but appeared to be uninterested. "I didn't notice," he shrugged before immersing himself back in whatever article he was reading about whoever was the big basketballstar of the month.

"You couldn't have missed it," Brooke persisted. "She could have lit up the New Year's apple alone."

"Sorry," Nathan said shortly. He didn't even glance up this time.

Brooke didn't have a lot of patience today.

"Why is it," she snapped, her lips inches away from his ear, "that everybody has to have a fucking problem always?"

Nathan shot her a look. So did some old lady, but Brooke didn't care about her. She had gotten the attention she wanted finally.

"Maybe we ought to talk outside," Nathan suggested.

"I guess we should," Brooke said, appeased.

Nathan rolled his eyes and pushed himself out of the low seated waiting room chair, and Brooke did the same. He crossed the room in a few short steps, leaving Brooke to hurry after.

"You could have at least waited," Brooke glared as she stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Nathan ignored her. "Why are we even out here?"

"You wanted to be," Brooke said.

"Only because you were getting all pissed with me." Nathan looked pretty annoyed.

"Only because you were acting like an ass," Brooke retorted.

"Well, it's not like you had to go and hang all over Lucas right in front of me," he grumbled.

Brooke glanced up at him sharply. "Why would that matter?" As an afterthought, she added, "And I wasn't hanging either."

"Yeah, you were," Nathan said darkly.

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Like I said, why would it even matter?"

"It didn't," Nathan answered quickly.

It was very possible that she could have simply been imagining it, but Brooke could have sworn Nathan's cheeks were heating up. A smile came to her face. It was such an unusual look for him, but it was oddly…_cute_, Brooke thought, _very._

Abruptly, she jerked her gaze away. Those were not thoughts she should be having.

"Bull," Brooke challenged without thinking. The seconds passed after her outburst, and she wished she could grab that stupid word back. Why couldn't she ever just leave well enough alone?

Nathan gave her an exasperated look. Obviously, he was thinking the same thing too. Brooke was ready to apologize and tell him to forget she said anything, when he sighed and began to speak.

"You could be right," he said. He paused for a moment, but Brooke didn't press him. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear what he had to say. "It _shouldn't_ have bothered me," Nathan continued, "but I guess it did. In a way."

Brooke cocked her head to the side, and Nathan tried not to swallow when she took a few tentative steps closer. "But why?" she asked, her voice soft.

Nathan shrugged. That was the part that bothered him the most. He couldn't just come out and say why he didn't like the sight of her eyes following Lucas's every move, her breath catching whenever Lucas came close to her. He couldn't just come out and say that her never-ending adoration of Lucas made him so…He just couldn't. But he had to get her away from Lucas. He couldn't stand seeing them together anymore.

"We talked about this, Brooke," he said instead. "It just pisses me off that you go crawling back to Lucas after everything. It's so pathetic, and you don't even seem to realize it. It's like to you, Lucas is some sort of God that deserves your worship. It's sick."

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Nathan was aware of how harsh his words were. He was aware of Brooke's falling face and her dulling, bleary eyes—a sure sign of tears. But the thoughts just weren't registering yet. His cold rant continued, fueled by his irrational desire to make sure Brooke stayed well away from Lucas from now on.

"I thought you deserved better, Brooke," Nathan eventually finished, "but if you keep throwing yourself at him every time he walks in the room, then maybe you don't."

A cold silence met his words. When his eyes finally came into focus on Brooke's lashes desperately blinking back tears, the reality of what just happened set in. "Jesus," he muttered, "Brooke, I…"

"No," Brooke cut him off. Her voice was surprisingly clear and unwavering. "I get it already, okay? You're right."

"Brooke," Nathan protested.

"Nathan, just stop," Brooke said. Her tone was cold, and her face was set, but he could still see tears threatening to fall. "I know I've been acting pretty pathetic lately. I just…I don't know, but you're completely right. I really just need to get over my hang up with Lucas and move on. Thanks for helping me see that."

Accomplishing his goal didn't feel nearly as good as Nathan imagined it would. He reached for Brooke's arm to try and explain himself, try and apologize for what an ass he was, but Brooke took a quick step back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, something _he _should have been saying, and turned on her heel, walking away from him quickly. By the time he realized what was going on, she was already halfway across the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" he yelled after her.

"Home," came Brooke's tart reply.

Nathan shook his head, but she had her back turned to him. "You don't have a car."

Brooke bristled. "I can walk," she said acidly, "I'm getting really good at that."

Grimacing, Nathan made a move to go after her, but Brooke seemed to have already anticipated this. "Don't even bother," she said, without turning, "You have to stay with Lucas."

He froze. _Lucas. _Shit. He looked at his watch. Lucas's examination was probably already over by now. But Brooke…Nathan shook his head as he looked at her rapidly fading figure. As long as he sped things up inside, he could probably catch up with her in his car.

He took another glance at her, already a good amount of feet away from where he had last seen her.

Maybe.

Brooke tried to hold onto her angered thoughts for as long as she could, but they were already giving way to the hurt she felt. She wiped at her eyes, frustrated. Had Nathan really meant all those awful things he had said to her?

_Why wouldn't he? _A voice in Brooke's head taunted nastily. _It was all the truth._

Shamed as she was to admit it, Brooke couldn't help but agree. For the past few months, she had been like a little puppy, doing anything and everything in her power to grab Lucas's attention, even when she knew he secretly wanted Peyton instead.

It wasn't fair, Brooke thought. Why did Peyton always have to get everything?

Nathan swam to the top of Brooke's mind, and she smiled bitterly. And whatever Peyton was done with, Haley was quick to grab. In fact, nearly everybody had had a chance at Nathan, except for Brooke. Which didn't even make sense because he was the captain of the basketball team and she was the head of the cheerleading squad. Those types were always together in the movies, weren't they?

_Until some shy little vixen steps in_, Brooke thought with a harsh laugh, _I guess that would be Haley._

The only difference was Haley didn't step into anything because Brooke and Nathan had never had anything together in the first place.

A car passed her by and then another. When the third one slowed to a stop beside her, Brooke didn't even notice. "Brooke!" the driver yelled to catch her attention. "Brooke!"

Her head shot up, surprised and alarmed. Her stomach sank when she recognized the voice.

"Hey, Tutor-girl," Brooke said weakly. She quickly brushed away any remaining tears and curved her lips into a somewhat fake grin.

Haley seemed somewhat annoyed but plastered a smile on all the same. Maybe using cute pet-names didn't really work when you tore a person down the night before. Especially when you've been having disturbing thoughts about their boyfriend too. But Haley didn't know that.

"You need a ride?" Haley offered.

Brooke shrugged. "I'm okay walking."

An eyebrow shot up on Haley's face. "I guess so. This might seem nosy, but why are you walking anyway?"

"I don't have my car," Brooke said. She was very much aware of how difficult she was being but couldn't bring herself to stop.

Luckily, Haley was a patient person, particularly when it came to Brooke. She had had somewhat of a soft spot for the girl ever since she had apologized for being so bitchy and gotten her and Nathan together. Haley wasn't sure if she would have ever had the courage to make a move on her own. "I can see that," she said slowly, "but why don't you have your car…or any car for that matter?"

Brooke shrugged again. She was obviously avoiding the entire subject. "So what was that you said about a ride?" she said, smiling cutely.

Haley wasn't fooled. She liked to fancy herself as someone who could see beneath the exterior of a person and had a feeling that something was upsetting Brooke. _Probably something about the baby_, Haley reasoned. But she didn't want to push Brooke. "Okay," Haley relented, "get in the car."

Brooke gave an appreciative half-smile, but Haley could tell her heart really wasn't in it. "Home, please," Brooke requested.

"You got it," Haley said, pushing her car into gear and pulling away from the curb.

"Thanks," Brooke mumbled, "I don't care how much practice I've had walking; it would have taken forever and a day to get to my house."

"Why were you walking in the middle of the road anyway?" Haley asked tentatively. She still didn't want to push, but that didn't stop her from being curious.

"I was on the side of the road," Brooke corrected with a smirk.

Haley rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Brooke sighed. "It's been a long day," she said, echoing Lucas's words from earlier that morning.

"It's barely noon," Haley pointed out gently, laughing.

Her eyes flew to the neon green numbers of the clock in Haley's car automatically. It was only 12:08. Brooke suppressed a groan. "I think," she thought out loud, only half joking, "I think I want to be a hermit when I grow up."

"Brooke Davis? A hermit?" Haley giggled. "Now, that's something hard to picture."

Vaguely disappointed, Brooke was inclined to agree. It was like she needed people around her. She thrived on it. She had nearly driven herself crazy cooped up alone inside her house for only half of that weekend. And then everything else had gone crazy with her.

They rode in an uncomfortable silence the rest of the way, both concerned with different things—Haley with trying not to pry, and Brooke feeling guilty about her recent thoughts and fight with Nathan. Maybe he was right. Maybe they were doing something wrong. Seeing Haley only increased her insecurities.

But it wasn't Brooke's place to tell. She hadn't even wanted to in the first place.

They were almost at Brooke's house when Haley's cell phone rang, cutting into the heavy silence. Brooke couldn't have been more relieved. Until Haley answered.

"Hey, Nathan, what's up?" she cooed into the phone. Brooke blanched, but Haley didn't notice.

Suddenly, Haley's voice was much more serious than before. "You're _where_? What happened?"

Brooke was outright fidgeting now. Maybe she ought to try that whole jumping out of the car thing after all. _Jump out of the car, run like hell, and never look back, _Brooke mused grimly. This was, of course, considering she survived the jump.

At any rate, she probably wouldn't have any need for an abortion anymore.

"_What_?" Haley gasped into the phone, breaking Brooke away from her trance. Brooke clenched her teeth. The worst was yet to come.

Nathan must have been saying something because Haley fell silent, nodding slightly. Abruptly, she turned her head to stare at Brooke, her expression incredulous.

So there it was. Brooke knew her name would come up eventually.

"Brooke was there too, huh?" Haley repeated slowly and sent a pointed look over at the other girl. "And she just walked off?"

There was another brief silence before Haley spoke again. "Yeah, I'll be on the lookout out for her, Nathan. I'll be there in a second. Bye, love you." She snapped the phone shut, her eyes still on Brooke.

Brooke fidgeted again. "So I guess Nathan had a lot to say," she said lamely.

"Oh yeah," Haley snapped back, "Interesting little story about a car accident, actually."

"Really?" Brooke squeaked. "I hadn't heard about it."

"Funny," Haley grimaced, "since, you know, you were in it."

Brooke sighed. "Listen, Haley, I'm really…"

"Don't even tell me you're sorry, Brooke," Haley said, livid. "My best friend was in a car accident, and you didn't even tell me? Did you think it was some fun, first-grade _secret_ or something?"

"Haley," Brooke tried again.

"No, Brooke," Haley said, shaking her head. "What is it with you? You're either giving out too much information, or you just shut everybody out. Isn't it just okay to be average sometimes?" On the word _average_, Haley gave a grunt and pulled her car into a U-turn.

"Where are we going?" Brooke panicked.

Haley gave her a look. "Back to the hospital. Where did you think?"

"No!" Brooke exclaimed. "I just came from there." Her voice turned pleading. "Can't you just drop me off at home first? Please?"

Shaking her head again, Haley gritted her teeth. "Any other day, Brooke. But Lucas just had a concussion. Can't you understand that?"

"He's over it now, isn't he?" Brooke said desperately.

Haley, for all her patience and kindness, ignored her. "We should probably call Peyton too and let her know."

Brooke's expression turned from begging to sour. "Yeah, lets. We can have one big party in the emergency room."

Haley didn't answer, and Brooke turned and looked out the window bitterly. If that bastard could've called just five minutes later, she would have been safely home, away from everyone and all their bullshit. _But, things are never supposed to go your way, Davis, _Brooke berated herself, _you should know that by now._

In the background, she could hear Haley dialing up Peyton.

"…don't get riled up or anything, but there's been another accident…" There were a few words that Brooke couldn't catch, and then a silence in which she presumed Peyton was speaking. "Yeah, it's Lucas," Haley said, "but it's not too bad or anything…Yes, I'm sure…Nathan called me…just come down, okay? We'll all be there. See ya."

After she hung up the phone, Haley paused to give Brooke yet another exasperated look. Brooke pretended not to notice. She still had a few minutes of a much-needed reprieve before they reached the hospital.

Unfortunately, when it came right down to it, those minutes seemed to speed into seconds. "Here we are," Haley said with mock-cheeriness. Brooke was surprised but did nothing more than raise a brow. She was going to have to watch out for this one; Haley seemed to be developing a mild sarcastic steak to her.

While Haley went through the motions of removing her seatbelt and scrambling out of the car, Brooke had no intentions of doing any such thing. This evidently caught the other girl off-guard. "Well," Haley said impatiently, "aren't you coming?"

"Wasn't really planning on it," Brooke shrugged.

Haley wasn't in any mood to be humoring her actions. "Of course you are," Haley said in a no-room-to-argue tone. "Come on; get out."

Brooke pretended to consider the notion for a beat before shaking her head and looking very much apologetic. "No, I really don't think I want to."

The huff Haley gave was one that could rival Brooke at her most spoilt moments. "Fine then," she snapped, giving in. "If you want to alienate everybody who cares about you, go ahead and stay. But, if not, I strongly suggest you follow me."

Haley obviously did not realize the potential of Brooke's audacity. "To each her own, right?" Brooke smirked, sugar-sweet.

Momentarily frozen, it took a few good seconds for Haley to recover from the shock that had swept over her from Brooke's words. It hadn't really been the answer she had expected, to say the least. All traces of anger had quickly escaped from her demeanor.

"I guess so," Haley stammered in a shell-shocked voice, obvious hurt flooding through her eyes. Brooke felt more than a twinge of guilt.

"Look, Hales," she began, but it was too late. Haley had already slammed the door and was hurrying up to the hospital in a near run. With a groan, Brooke allowed her head to fall back against the seat of the car. What a mess she had created. She really was putting up an undeniable effort to ward herself away from her friends, she realized, as Haley was probably running straight in to cry on Nathan and Lucas's shoulders.

And they would take Haley's side of course, because she was their very own shy little vixen, and they would love and protect her forever.

As for Brooke?

She didn't even know what she was to them. She didn't even think she wanted to. After what Nathan had said to her, it was a very real possibility that she may not even be comparable to something vile on the bottom of their precious basketball shoes.

The thought depressed Brooke thoroughly. So much so, that at first, she didn't notice the arrival of another until he called out to her.

"Brooke?"

Her head shot up. "Nathan," she murmured, her eyes meeting his across the lot. He began jogging towards her, probably to yell at her for being such a bitch to Haley, and Brooke only became aware of one thing. She couldn't stay. She couldn't handle this.

Brooke was about to reach for the door handle, when her eyes caught the gearshift of the car, and she noticed something much more useful. Haley had forgotten to take the keys out. Brooke shot another wild look at the steadily approaching figure of Nathan and made up her mind right then and there. She unbuckled her seatbelt and all but dived into the driver's seat. Nathan paused to watch her in disbelief and gave her the time she needed to start the car and shift it into gear.

Against her own good sense, Brooke gave Nathan one last, searching gaze before she pulled out of the parking lot. His expression spoke volumes, but Brooke knew she wasn't ready to listen to what he had to say.

So she did the thing she was best at. She ran. Again.

It was like a scene out of a movie with tires squealing and the engine roaring, but Brooke didn't take the time to notice. She just had to get out. Near the entrance, she nearly collided with another car that stung in her memory, but Brooke didn't even look to apologize. With a quick jerk of the wheel, she was onto the main road, which meant one thing. Freedom.

Meanwhile, Peyton had brought her car to a screeching halt after having just avoided an accident, ready to tell off the driver of the other car.

But she was gone.

**Author's Note: **Probably the longest lull between chapters yet. For both stories come to think of it. If you are just checking here for any news on Only in the News (nice play on words there right? Totally accidental, I promise) rest assured that an update should be coming soon. **However, for those of you who are interested in this story, I'm promising big things for next chapter**. I mean, come on, Brooke just stole a car. Which, in essence, has nothing to do with the things about next chapter I'm promising you, but still. So anyway, **stay tuned**. Chapter twelve should be a fun one. Well anyway, it's time to get to the real point of these author's notes and remind you to read/review! I mean, come on, everybody knows how much fun a review is.

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	12. Tall, Cold Glass

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

_Story Notes:_Lots of gratitude for my awesome new beta** _Aleah_**. Muchos thanks to her for her awesome-ness (don't care if it's not a word) in finding all the little things I don't have the patience to and for listening to my random rants about anything I felt like. ;)

**Chapter Twelve: **Tall, Cold Glass

Brooke guided Haley's car down the streets of Tree Hill in a haphazard fashion, twisting and jerking the wheel as she saw fit. Her mind was racing, and her heart pounded against her ribs in a way that would have worried her had she not been in such a state, and Brooke couldn't seem to regain her grasp on reality.

She might have continued on this way for quite a while if it had not been for the stray cat that crossed the road in front of her. "Shit!" she gasped as she slammed on the breaks. The cat had frozen and, for a second, it looked like there was no way to avoid the collision when the car screeched to a dead stop.

Sitting there, breathing hard with her hands gripping the wheel tightly, Brooke kept a steady gaze on the animal just in front of her. The cat, a very large one, she noted, flattened its ears against its head and gave her what seemed to be an almost reproachful glare before it slunk off the road and into the woods.

Brooke finally drew a shaky sigh of relief and raked a hand through her hair. What was she doing? What had possessed her? Her blank mind couldn't supply the answers she wanted, and this only seemed to upset her more. Paying no attention to the fact that she was still parked in the middle of a thankfully empty road, Brooke drew her legs up onto the seat and curled her arms around them. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down.

Unfortunately, she never had the chance as another car pulled up behind her and gave an impatient tap of the horn. Sighing, Brooke reluctantly released her legs and shifted the car back into gear, continuing on her way to an as of yet unknown destination.

A few hours later, Brooke couldn't help but appreciate the fact that she didn't easily get motion sickness. She hadn't yet stepped out of the car, and she wasn't sure she'd be ready anytime. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Brooke knew what she was doing was very wrong, that she had just stolen a car, but she wasn't about to listen to that voice.

She wasn't about to think about anything at all, really. About an hour into her ride, she had tried, but that had only succeeded in a running a couple red lights and nearly dropping off the road. Brooke was still driving at a breakneck speed, one that would get her pulled over in a heartbeat had there been any police around, still searching for something, anything, that would dull the roar of pain and confusion in her mind.

And that was when she saw it.

It was gray and somewhat nondescript, unless you counted the line of protesters crowding its entrance. Once Brooke's gaze caught on it, she couldn't pull herself away. As if on autopilot, she slowed the car down and glided it into a parking space just down the street.

With an almost overwhelming sense of trepidation, Brooke shut off the car with a sharp twist of the keys and climbed out. Automatically, she smoothed out the wrinkles on her skirt and blouse before continuing on her way. Her steps were brisk and long at first, but as the building grew steadily closer, she began to slow down, almost hesitant as she approached now.

The protesters' voices seemed to rise in volume as they reverberated in Brooke's mind. "Don't kill your baby!" they shrieked. "There's another way!"

Brooke shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her as she stared up at the abortion clinic, a safe distance away from the attacking protesters. She bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. This was the best way, right? Was she making the right decision?

That was when she noticed the change. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there all the same. The horde of people at the door seemed to quiet for a moment, a split-second, before they rose to a new, slightly higher level of ferocity. Brooke's eyes fell on a girl tumbling out of the doorway, not much older than herself, dressed in baggy, black clothes and keeping her head carefully down. The protesters moved to make way for her but did not silence their shouts.

Brooke could only stare, wide-eyed, as the girl raced away from the place, towards her. She was only a few feet away when the girl finally dared to lift her gaze up, and their eyes caught. Brooke drew in a sharp, ragged breath at the expression of pure, unadulterated pain and loneliness on the girl's face. The girl slowed her pace somewhat, and for a second, they shared a strange understanding as if the girl could read what Brooke was thinking.

In a flash, the feeling had broken as the girl quickened her pace again and passed Brooke by, bitter tears streaking down her face.

Any and all energy Brooke might have had left seemed to leave her as her legs went wobbly, and Brooke had to drag herself over to a nearby bench before they gave out on her completely. The desperation inside her intensified ten-fold. Brooke had to fight to keep the sobs from breaking out from her. The expression on that girl's face was unforgettable. She had never seen such utter hopelessness.

Brooke sent another glance up at the protesters, and a streak of anger coursed through her very suddenly. What right did they have? How could they fight to make somebody so miserable? It was bad enough that the girl was alone, but with so many people harassing her, screaming at her…

It wasn't right. It just wasn't fair.

Didn't they realize how hard it was?

She suddenly tasted a coppery, bitter substance on her lips, and Brooke realized she had sliced through the skin on her lip with her teeth. She brought a tentative finger to touch the cut and was almost transfixed when she pulled it away to see the watery red liquid that had gathered there.

"Shit," she murmured softly. The world seemed to come in sharper contrast around her with all its damned jagged edges. The sting on her lip was very real now, and Brooke had to force down welled tears. She had never felt so out of control in her life. She needed something to get rid of this awful feeling, or at least, to dull it.

Not wasting another second, Brooke rose wobbly from the bench and all but ran over to Haley's car. She knew where she wanted to go now. She knew what she needed.

It wasn't too long before she found the place she was looking for. Five to ten minutes, give or take. One of the city's seedier bars, just on the outskirts of downtown Tree Hill. It was lax on ID checks and had some of the strongest drinks Brooke had ever tasted. Normally, she preferred to opt for one of the few other bars, always unsettled by the dirty, violent atmosphere of this place, but today, it just seemed to be more and more appealing by the second as she approached it.

Brooke pulled into a tight parking space, surveying the crowded lot around her. It was obviously busy tonight. A tense smile spread across her face. Obviously, there would be action in this bar, maybe even a couple brawls. Definitely enough to take her mind off things, but Brooke had her doubts. Was she really up for this sort of thing tonight?

She slammed the car door shut, steeling her resolve. Of course she was. She was Brooke fucking Davis.

As she predicted, inside the bar things were getting pretty hectic. The noise was loud, full of drunken ramblings and the occasional catcall. A woman was sobbing in the corner and downing drink after drink with her friends surrounding her.

"I told you he was a cheating bastard, hun," one of the obviously less sensitive friends said to the woman. "It's good that you finally got out." A few of the other women glared at her, disapproving, before they made consoling clucking noises and rubbed the crying woman's back.

Brooke couldn't deny that she was jealous, maybe even bitter. It was horrible to be cheated on, yes, but Brooke would've appreciated a support of friends to buy her drinks and console her. Maybe if there had been anyone on her side, she wouldn't have been as messed up as she was now. That woman didn't realize what she had.

Brooke scoffed. _Whatever_. She wasn't really in the mood to analyze her own sob story tonight. All she was interested in was a tall, cold glass of the strongest drink they had and the warm, detached feeling that came with it. This in mind, she continued on her way up to the bar, sidling past a crowd of people and ducking away from anybody that looked remotely like anyone she might recognize.

"Hey, baby," a man leered as she squeezed past him. Brooke tried not to look revolted. The man had to be at least in his mid-thirties, if not older. Any other night she would have told him to fuck off and be done with it, but as it turned out, Brooke found as she searched her pockets, she was low on cash.

She tried her best at a coy smile. It came surprisingly easy considering how listless she felt. Maybe it was just habit by now.

Brooke nearly grimaced. The thought wasn't particularly comforting. All the same, she was desperate, and her smile barely flickered on her face. "Buy me a drink," she whispered, leaning into him and tapping a finger on his chest.

"Anything for a lady," the man grinned, mostly out of surprise Brooke assumed. He didn't seem like the type that got much action. Her suspicions were confirmed when he circled an arm around her waist and grabbed her side, as if to keep her from bolting as they made their way to the bar.

It took all she had not to recoil from his touch. But if he was paying…She chanced a glance at the man beside her and regretted it instantly. _He could be my father, _she thought miserably. Except for the fact that he was not so subtly trying to lower his hand and grab her ass. Brooke nearly dropped to her knees in relief when they reached the bar, and the man was forced to let her go.

He plunged a hand into his pocket and, instead of just grabbing a few bills, he came out with a thick wad of cash that Brooke knew he hadn't pulled accidentally. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and settled for just pretending not to pay attention. The man frowned and put the majority of the bills back in his pocket, holding out just enough for a couple drinks. The bartender hurried over to assist them.

The man leaned in close. "You want anything special?" he asked. Brooke shook her head noncommittally, and the man turned away. She couldn't have cared less as long as it had alcohol in it. She wasn't even sure what he ordered for her, Brooke realized, as she watched the bartender walk off to get them their drinks.

"It'll be a surprise," the man said, as if she cared.

Brooke shrugged, and the bartender came back with two tall glasses with what looked like just regular beer in them. God, this man was cheap. "Surprise," she muttered sarcastically as she was handed her drink.

The man raised a brow. "You could show a little gratitude."

Shrugging again, Brooke looked back down at the glass in her hands. Beer. Cheap beer. The glass wasn't even very cold. There wasn't much to thank him for. "Trust me," she said flatly, "Gratitude isn't a strong enough word to describe what I feel."

But Brooke could think of plenty of other words that would work better. She'd even tell him a few if he asked nicely enough.

"Can't even find the words, huh?" the man leered, obviously pleased with himself. "You know, actions do speak louder." He moved in close and slipped a hand into her back pocket.

This time, Brooke did recoil. "Shit!" she hissed as some of the beer spilled over the rim of the cup and onto her hands. She set the glass down on the counter and grabbed a few napkins to wipe herself off.

The man snatched the napkins right out of her hands. Brooke looked at him blankly. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

"I just bought you a drink," he said angrily. "The least you could do is show a little thanks."

Brooke narrowed her eyes and ripped the napkins back out of his hands. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Thank you. Now, go away."

"Not that kind of thanks," the man said, taking a step closer.

Fuming, Brooke took her index finger and jammed it into his chest with her nail to force him back a step. "Listen, asshole," she said, "I've had a bad enough day already without having to put up with your horny I'm-gonna-bang-a-girl-that-could-be-my-kid shit. I came here to forget about all that stuff and try to find a decent guy to buy me a drink, and of course, I had to settle for you, because if you haven't noticed, there are no decent guys here, and it turns out I probably should have picked Mountain Man over there in the corner because you're a cheap bastard with a bad taste in drinks."

The man stood there, shell-shocked.

Brooke rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out with a sigh, staring at the man impatiently. When he still stood there, she gestured impatiently, "The whole glare and sigh routine I just did? That was your signal to leave."

The man finally seemed to snap back to his senses. "I don't think so," he said nastily as he tried to advance on her once more.

For a second, Brooke felt the smallest twinge of fear, but a loud, slightly drunk voice cut in sharply. "Is this man bothering you, honey?"

Brooke spun around, and the man stumbled. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry when she saw the group of women from earlier that had been comforting the girl who had been cheated on. The one she had deemed insensitive was heading the group.

The man looked positively horrified. Brooke nearly did give into laughter. "No, I don't think so," she said. "He was just about to leave." She gave him a positively wicked smile.

The man scowled, but he was smart enough not to go up against a group of ultra-feminists. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Leaving."

They didn't take their eyes off him until he had completely exited the bar. And that was when the group burst into giggles. "What a jackass," one of the women drawled. All the rest nodded in agreement, and the head of the group turned to Brooke. "She's right, honey. I'm sorry he tried to get his hands on you."

Brooke shrugged. She didn't know when the change had occurred, but for some reason her giggles had subsided, and she felt strangely close to tears. "It's all right. I've handled worse."

The women clucked in disapproval, but said nothing. That is, except for the first lady again. "Men are pigs," she agreed. Then, quite suddenly, she smiled. "My name is Connie."

"I'm Brooke," Brooke answered back politely. "Thanks for, um, stepping in."

"Quite all right," another woman said before identifying herself as Rena. "I think about half the bar was about to put a stop to it; we just got there first."

Brooke smiled weakly. She knew it was a lie. Half the bar was drunk, and the other half just flat out didn't care, maybe even found it amusing. Except for these women, of course. "Well, thanks again," Brooke said awkwardly, shuffling her feet, "I guess, I'll just get back to my…" she gestured helplessly over to her glass.

"Nonsense, honey," Connie said. "You look absolutely miserable by yourself. Come sit with us." She had a commanding, booming voice. _Probably scares the hell out of her kids, _Brooke thought. Her own mother had always made sure to appear soft and dainty, even if she wasn't, so yelling had never been an issue in the Davis household unless it came from Brooke's nonexistent Dad.

She was reluctant to join, but what choice did she have? These women had been so nice to her; it would be rude to refuse. "All right," Brooke relented, "Just let me get my drink."

"Meet us at that table over there," Connie commanded. Brooke nodded to show she understood.

When Brooke joined the women at the table, she had halfway built her hopes up. These women seemed understanding. She had just seen them comforting another who must have left to wallow on her own at some point. Perhaps they might do the same for her. It would be nice.

She was terribly, terribly wrong.

Sitting there as a group was unbelievably awkward. Brooke could tell it would be as soon as she lowered herself into a seat, and the conversations stopped where they were. When they had all been standing together, laughing over the flight of the man, they had shared some sort of connection, but now, Brooke reflected, it had faded, and they really had nothing to talk about. The women grew more and more uneasy as the silence lingered, and Brooke knew they were regretting their invitation.

Connie was the one to finally open her mouth and say something. "Oh, look ladies," she said, with a strange, high-pitched giggle. "How handsome."

"Where?" a few of them demanded.

Connie pointed, "He just came in. By the door. It almost looks like he's looking for someone."

Brooke spun around in her chair at these words. She caught sight of Nathan's tall, muscular build and nearly dove under the table. She was just about to look away and try to hide when his gaze swept across the room, and their eyes locked. Brooke fought the urge to groan.

"Well, he's too young for us, of course," Rena said sensibly. Then, she rounded on Brooke. "But he does look just about your age, sweetie. You should go talk to him."

Brooke shifted uneasily in her chair. "Maybe later."

"_Later_," another woman scoffed. "If you want him, honey, you should go get him now before another broad in this bar snaps him up."

Brooke began to reply testily. "Well, if the other broad wants him so much, then…" but she never got to finish as Connie cut her off.

"Never you mind," she squealed, yes, _squealed_, excitedly. "He's coming this way."

Brooke didn't even bother to look up and confirm Connie's remark. Of course he'd be coming over. Just another thing to top off this perfect day. Barely seconds later, she sensed a new presence at the table, even though she was staring purposefully at her still full glass of beer, and she didn't need three guesses to know who it was.

The women tittered. Nathan pretended not to notice, but when Brooke finally lifted her head to peer up at him, she could see a faint blush rising on his cheeks. He noticed her eyes finally on him, and that was when he opened his mouth to speak. "Brooke."

One word. Just her name. That was it. But in that one word, he had managed to convey his frustration and anger and relief and something else Brooke still couldn't put a name on. Brooke's expression twisted into one of guilt, but the women around her took no notice.

"You know him?" Connie hissed, batting an arm at her. "Why on earth didn't you tell us?"

Brooke shrugged sheepishly. Connie rolled her eyes. She looked at Nathan meaningfully. "Well," she said seriously, "If nobody else is going to do the introductions, I'm Connie, and this is Rena, Jessica, Emily, Lucy, and Ann. And you are…"

"Nathan," he supplied helpfully, after a moment.

"Right," Connie said. "Nathan. I've always loved that name." When nobody said anything in the lull that followed, she added, "You two just go ahead and pretend that we're not here. Us broads have adult stuff to talk about anyway." The woman nodded in agreement and immediately began playing along.

"So Eddie and I were thinking about getting a new car," the blonde woman, Lucy, said. "A _minivan. _Does that say soccer mom or what?"

Brooke rolled her eyes. She had always expected adults never had much to say, but she never imagined their conversations could be this boring. Somewhere along the line, Nathan had been offered a chair that he somewhat hesitantly settled into, and she caught his eye again. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. As soon as she looked over, however, his expression went stony again.

"Nice disappearing act you pulled today," he hissed, careful not to let the women hear. "You really outdid yourself this time."

Brooke didn't even bother to answer back. Not tonight. She was much too tired.

To say this surprised Nathan was an understatement. He had been expecting a defiant, even mean Brooke. Not this defeated version of her. It unnerved him greatly. For the next few minutes, they sat in complete silence.

Connie noticed the conspicuous silence beside her, and she would have none of it. Extracting herself from the scintillating conversation of what colors were worst for a car ("Green just screams forty year old chauffer") for a moment, she leaned in close to Brooke but had her eyes steady on Nathan.

"Sorry to cut in," she said, knowing very well she wasn't, "But I do have to say, that I was just noticing that you two would make such a beautiful couple, if you're not already."

A couple of the women gasped and scolded their loud-mouthed friend accordingly, but Connie brushed their comments off flippantly. "Can you imagine the kids those two would have?" she demanded, her attention back on the other women. "Absolutely _gorgeous._"

When the women were completely immersed in arguing amongst themselves again, Nathan and Brooke turned back to each other, sheepish and embarrassed despite everything. Desperate to break the tension, Brooke said awkwardly. "I guess I did it with the wrong brother then."

It was a time to die of embarrassment if there ever was one. Her comment hadn't done anything to diffuse the situation; in fact, it had made things worse. Nathan shot her a somewhat reproachful stare. Slowly, pointedly, his gaze lowered to the beer in front of her. "Speaking of kids…" he growled.

Brooke sent a nervous glance back over her shoulder at the women. "I didn't drink any," she said very quietly.

Nathan looked suspicious. "So you're saying you had a full glass in front of you the whole night without actually doing anything with it."

"Basically, yeah," Brooke admitted.

"Then why the hell did you buy it?" Nathan asked.

Brooke looked away, ashamed. "I didn't, _exactly_."

A brow shot up on Nathan's face. "Then how…" He never got to finish his sentence as Connie cut in again.

"Sorry," she said, looking anything but, "but we really have to get back to her husbands." She rolled her eyes. "Commitment and all that bullshit. But it was very nice to meet you, Nathan and Brooke. We had fun." The women had all gathered up their things and were about to leave when Connie leaned back in and added sternly to Nathan. "I'd advise you to keep a closer look out on this one though," she said, jerking a finger at Brooke. "We're leaving you in charge of saving her from the bastards in this bar from now on." Her expression became light again and she straightened up, waggling her fingers. "Buh bye!" The other women followed her out the door.

"What was she talking about?" Nathan demanded immediately after.

Brooke winced. She knew that was coming. "Nothing," she assured him. His scowl told her he didn't believe her and Brooke elaborated. "Nothing important, anyway," she sighed. "Just this jerk who bought me a drink and wouldn't leave me alone afterwards. But nothing happened."

Nathan's expression was dark. "Is he still here?" he hissed, sweeping his gaze around the room as if trying to spot the man.

Brooke shook her head quickly. "He left when Connie and the others showed up. Nothing happened," she added to reinforce her point.

An almost inhuman growl escaped Nathan, and Brooke became alarmed. "The things you get yourself into," he muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Brooke challenged.

"You and I both know," Nathan said, fixing his gaze back on her again. They sat in a heavy silence for the next few moments before Nathan made a face of revulsion as the sound of chairs scraping and voices shouting filled the air to his left. It was the bar fight Brooke had been hoping for.

"Let's get you out of here," he said as he stood up and grabbed her arm.

Brooke's eyes fixated on his fingers wrapped around her. "Maybe I want to stay."

"I don't think so," Nathan scoffed. "You're getting in Haley's car and following me home."

Brooke was positive she hadn't heard him correctly. "Following you back to my house, you mean?" she said slowly.

Nathan shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Like I'm letting you out of my sight again."

Brooke cocked her head curiously, and Nathan flushed but offered no more words. He gave a small, almost pleading tug on her arm, and surprisingly compliant, Brooke rose to her feet. "All right, Nate," she sighed quietly, unsure if Nathan could even hear her. "If that's what you want."

The two didn't look back as Nathan led Brooke out of the bar. It felt as natural as breathing when Nathan's hand slid down her arm, and his fingers linked through hers. So natural, in fact, that Brooke didn't even notice at first. Her thoughts were still revolving around the idea that she would be spending the night in Nathan's apartment.

**Author's Note: **Chapter twelve after what may have been the longest lull between chapters yet! Yes! Haha. As for those big things I was promising, well, plans for the chapter changed a little, but overall, it certainly wasn't a _small _chapter. Anyway, I really must do what these Author's Notes are meant for a encourage you guys to read and review. I'm serious. The feedback for SDDfM has gone really far down again, and I miss reading all you guys' great comments/criticism. So leave me one! Pretty please?

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	13. Her Choice

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Thirteen: **Her Choice

"You don't have to do this, you know," Brooke said for the umpteenth time that night since she and Nathan had arrived at his apartment. "It's not too late; I can still drive Haley's car back over to my house."

Nathan snorted as he fumbled around his apartment, looking around for extra sheets. He finally found them in the hall closet (they were probably the only damned things in his apartment that were actually where they should be) and grumbled something that sounded suspiciously similar to, "Like hell."

"I mean it," Brooke protested from her spot on the couch as Nathan began tucking in the sheets into the cushions. She jumped off the couch after noticing that she was in serious danger of being tucked into the sheets and impatiently tapped her foot as he fluffed a couple pillows and threw them up at the head of the couch. "It's not like I'm going to run away again."

Nathan seemed to run out of things to do as he finally took the time to straighten up and actually acknowledge her. "Bullshit, Brooke," he said, not entirely unkindly, "all you've been doing lately is running away."

Brooke swallowed and opened her mouth but found that she could not dispute his words. "I-I guess you're right," she said somewhat lamely, defeated.

Nathan nodded and just like that, he was no longer standing in front of her anymore. "You want anything?" he asked, walking towards the kitchen. "Soda, water, geez, I don't know…tea?"

"Tea?" Brooke snorted at the mental image of Nathan scurrying around the kitchen, making _tea_. "Um, no thanks. I'm fine."

"You sure?" Nathan asked, oblivious. Brooke nodded, and he shrugged before heading into the kitchen. She watched the door swing back and forth behind him before casting herself down on the couch with a sigh, careful not to disturb the sheets Nathan had worked so hard to tuck.

She didn't know why she was protesting so much. Just forty-five minutes earlier, in fact, she had been all hot on the idea. She had practically been obsessing over it. But somewhere along the car ride over here, as she followed the bright yellow taillights of Nathan's car, Brooke had begun to have her doubts. Maybe staying over at Nathan's _wasn't _such a great idea. Maybe he didn't even want her there. Most likely, Nathan just saw her as a gigantic screw-up, not to be trusted to be able to handle herself alone.

But that wasn't even the worst. Maybe Nathan was just humoring her. Brooke had made her feelings towards him pretty apparent at the bar. He had been the one to grab onto her, of course, but she had been the one who refused to let go. She could have played it off as just confusion, Brooke supposed. The bar had been _so _hot, and the people seemed to clamor around her, making her head swirl, but she knew that wasn't the reason. And she had a sick feeling that Nathan did too.

Then, it hadn't seemed so bad. Nathan didn't exactly give off the vibe of being opposed as his fingers closed around hers too as he led her out of the bar. But when they had gotten out in the parking lot, Brooke still hadn't let go, letting him pull her along towards their parked cars as well. Somehow, Brooke had noticed vaguely, he had managed to find a spot only a couple spaces away from hers.

Just a few feet away from their cars, Nathan had turned on Brooke rather suddenly. Brooke had jumped back in surprise, but Nathan put his free hand on her shoulder to steady her. "Follow me," he had told her firmly. "Don't run."

Brooke had only nodded, fazed, and Nathan squeezed her shoulder, once, then twice, before pulling away to walk towards his car. It was only then that Brooke remembered that she was still holding onto him. "Oops," Nathan said, smiling tightly. Brooke flushed and loosened her grip, allowing Nathan to pull his hand away.

"Sorry," she said.

Nathan shook his head. "No big deal." And that was when he went to get in his car, but not before giving one last warning. "Follow me," he said again, and just like she had done the last time, Brooke nodded, still not all there.

Luckily, Brooke reflected wryly, she had been given the car ride to snap out of her daze, saving her from further embarrassment. Otherwise, she might as well just go ahead and lock herself in her room. God knows, she had made a big enough ass out of herself already.

Nathan came back out of the kitchen with two glasses in his hands filled almost to the brim with brown, bubbling coke. He sat down on the couch beside her and offered her one. "Thought you might have changed your mind," he said with a shrug.

"In all of five minutes?" Brooke said, raising a brow.

Nathan shrugged again as he reached to set the extra coke on the table in front of him. "Just being polite."

Brooke's arm suddenly shot out, wrapping around his wrist. He looked at her sharply, questioning, and Brooke tried not to blush. "That's sweet," she said, carefully choosing her words. "I guess if you went through all the trouble…"

Nathan furrowed his brows. "Wasn't that much work," he said but handed the coke to her all the same.

"Of course it was," Brooke waved him off and grinned. "I mean, look, you even put a bendy straw in it for me," she teased as she played with the pink plastic.

"Haha," Nathan grumbled.

"No, really," Brooke insisted, an unnaturally largesmile still plastered on her face. "Thank you."

Nathan shifted uncomfortably, which made Brooke all the more pleased. Better that he be concerned with his own discomfort than be able to see hers. "Like I said, it wasn't that big a deal."

"Oh, but it is," Brooke said, taking a large sip of her drink. It was regular coke, something she had sworn off years ago in favor of diet, and she had forgotten how much she had liked it until then, its sweetness sorely unmatched by the zero-calorie version. "I should, like, worship you or something for going through all the trouble."

"Bitch," Nathan groused good-naturedly as he realized he'd been played. Brooke smiled at him sweetly, and he shook his head. "You wanna watch some TV or something?"

Brooke shrugged. "Whatever you want. Your house not mine."

"You got a point there," Nathan agreed and grabbed the remote from the table to flip through the channels. It wasn't long till he found a basketball game playing and settled back on the couch with a content sigh. Brooke, however, remained unnaturally stiff on the edge of the seat, and Nathan couldn't help but notice and feel stirrings of unease. "What's wrong?" he asked warily.

Nose scrunched and brows furrowed, Brooke conveyed her distaste for his pick effectively. "Do we really have to watch _this_?" she whined.

Nathan sighed again, but not from content. "I thought it was 'my house, my choice.' Remember?"

"Well, yeah," Brooke said, obviously put-out, "but I didn't expect you to pick this shit."

"You didn't?" Nathan questioned dubiously.

Brooke shot him a look. "Okay, maybe it crossed my mind, but I figured pro-basketball season was like, over by now."

Nathan grinned. "Basketball season is never over. Not in this house."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Brooke scowled. "I hate basketball."

Nathan looked at her blankly. "But you cheer for it."

"I'm good at flipping and even better at gossiping," Brooke said. "You think we actually pay attention to the games?"

It was Nathan's turn to scowl. "Well, _yeah_. I guess I always figured that you guys liked to watch us."

Brooke laughed and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. "Of course we watch _you_. Just not what you guys happen to be doing or something stupid like the score."

"Perverts," Nathan muttered, painfully aware of the fact that his ears were flushing red.

To his horror, Brooke noticed and gave one a good flick. "Like you aren't," she said good-naturedly.

"Me?" Nathan grinned wolfishly, trying to sound innocent.

"Whatever, don't give me that," Brooke said as she rolled her eyes. She happened to spy the remote in Nathan's hands and realized how off topic they had gotten. It was strange how easy it had been for their conversation to flow so naturally when all the times they had talked before had been so awkward. It was nice, Brooke thought with a smile before her eyes returned to the remote. "Anyway, the whole point of this little talk was for _me_," she paused for dramatic effect, "to get_ this_." She snatched the remote out of his hands before he had a chance to process what was happening.

"Hey!" Nathan yelled, and with all his seasoned basketball reflexes, managed to grab back the remote before Brooke could pull it in and shield it properly. Not that it did him much use, he reflected, as Brooke went into full pout mode. "That's not going to work," Nathan warned. "Haley's done it so much, I'm practically immune."

Haley. The name dropped from his mouth like lead and then hung thickly in the air between them. Brooke's playful pout flickered visibly on her face, and Nathan found himself regretting ever mentioning her. But, _why_? She was his girlfriend. He had every right to bring her up. He should be bringing her up more, in fact. He should feel guilty for not thinking about her more.

Because he really hadn't been thinking about her at all lately. Sure, he had given her a quick call on the ride home from the bar, telling her to let everyone know that he had found Brooke and assuring her that her car was fine and would be returned tomorrow. Then, obviously, he had wrapped up the call pretty quickly, other things understandably on his mind, but he had told her, like always, that he…

No, he hadn't. She had said, "Okay, bye. I love you, Nate," and he had shifted uncomfortably in his seat and said, "Yeah, you too." But that was practically the same thing, right? Nathan furrowed a brow.

"Hello, earth to Nate," Brooke said, waving a hand in front of his face. Her pout was firmly back in place, and Nathan vaguely noted that her puppy dog face was pretty damn good, maybe even better than Haley's. "Nate," Brooke said again impatiently. "Focus on me here, okay? Because, I'm going to, like, die if I have to watch these guys run back and forth in their nasty, baggy shorts for much longer."

And just like that, the discomfort that had invaded the room passed.

"Hard ass," Nathan said with a rueful smile but relinquished the remote anyway. Brooke smirked.

"I knew I'd get to you."

"It's impossible to say no to you, Brooke."

There was a pause, and then Brooke looked away, staring hard at the television. "You'd be surprised."

Nathan grimaced and had the sudden impulse to take her hand. So he did. Brooke looked back at him, surprised. "Lucas was a real ass," Nathan said seriously. "Nobody approved of what he did."

Brooke smiled again, but it was bitter. "I wasn't talking about Lucas," she said tightly and slipped her hand out from his grasp.

Nathan sat for a second in complete silence. What did that mean? Was she trying to…insinuate something? Did he want her to? His mind reeled. _Did he? _Nathan felt a sick sense of guilt. He knew the answer. But there was no way she…it was Brooke. She didn't like him like that. Did she?

And for godsakes, what about Haley? Why did he keep forgetting about her?

Finally, Nathan spoke, his voice surprisingly calm, albeit low, despite his racing thoughts. "So who are you talking about then?"

Brooke's expression was strained. "A little forward, huh Scott?"

"Sorry," Nathan said quickly, although he knew the only thing he was sorry about was that she hadn't told him.

"I can't tell you, Nathan," Brooke said apologetically. "Not today, maybe never. It wouldn't be fair."

"Wouldn't be fair to whom?" Nathan wheedled. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer, but he was still desperate for it.

"To him," Brooke said firmly. "It wouldn't be fair to him." She fixed him with a hard stare. "You see, he's got kind of a lot going on right now. And I've put him through so much shit already."

Nathan's breathing was suddenly very labored. She couldn't be talking about—but maybe...And Nathan finally accepted the fact that he wanted her to be. "Maybe you're underestimating him," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe he can handle it."

Brooke's gaze was piercing. It was amazing that such a fun-loving, flighty girl could be so intense. "And maybe he can't," she said frankly. "Maybe he doesn't realize how much he'd be taking on, and giving up, if he got involved with me. I don't think he can deal with it."

Haley flashed across his mind. That was the first of the flood of images. Brooke's unborn baby, her hard partying, her highs and lows, the drinking, the family problems, the hurt and distrust Lucas had caused her, the flightiness...Nathan reached out, putting his hand on her shoulder, ignoring the thrill that burned his fingers and palm when he did, and returned her stare, matching its intensity. "I think you're wrong," he said.

"I can deal with all of it, Brooke."

Brooke's breath caught, her eyes losing their concentration as they went round. Then, she withdrew from him abruptly, as if burned. Her fist clenched around the sheet. "I think you should go," she said.

"Brooke," Nathan protested, opening his mouth to say more.

She cut him off. "No," she said decisively, "I'm tired. I really think you should go."

Nathan was stubborn, but he didn't want to make things any worse at the moment. He knew Brooke wouldn't be able to handle it. Not now. "Okay," he said gently. He rose from the couch without further argument and turned off the light. He turned just before entering his bedroom. "But I wasn't lying. Remember that."

How could she forget?

Long after Nathan had changed and brushed his teeth and climbed into bed, Brooke was still lying on the couch, sheets pulled up past her chest, staring up at the ceiling. She knew there would be no sleep for her tonight. No chance in hell.

She was furious. At herself and at Nathan. They had overstepped the boundaries. Brooke had promised herself she wouldn't ever turn into Peyton. And while they hadn't done anything particularly incriminating, like hook up or something equally slimy, Brooke had a feeling that that conversation alone hadn't been right while Nathan was still taken. It should have waited.

And Brooke shouldn't have been feeling this terrible sense of excitement rising from the bottom of her stomach, making her breathing grow shallow. She shouldn't have been picturing that tragic kiss they had shared, thinking about how it was very possible that they might be having better soon, initiated by mutual attraction instead of hatred.

But it was more than that. Despite her glee, Brooke could also feel an equal amount of doubt and anxiety washing over her. Nathan couldn't really understand how hard it would be, could he? He said he did, but…that was impossible. She was so unbelievably screwed up.

And yet, there hadn't been much in these past weeks that she had censored from him. She had really let him have it, especially the last couple days, in fact. And he hadn't run away screaming yet. He should have if he had any sense in him at all, but he didn't. He stayed by her. He even made a conscious effort to.

Brooke smiled in spite of herself. _Crazy bastard._

The amusement passed, and Brooke found herself faced with a choice. She could take the leap, trust Nathan and his promises, and either find something special or crash and burn. Or she could sit back, watch Nathan and Haley grow old together, and protect her heart forever.

From Brooke's experiences, she knew the crash and burn part was painful. Devastating, even. And it was hard to go back to the way you were. When a person gambled her feelings like that in hopes of finding the something special, it wasn't likely she'd come out unscathed. Taking a chance on someone usually wasn't a worthwhile risk. It was so much easier to stand apart than experience any kind of heart break.

Standing apart made a person strong, kept them from falling. There were no risks, no pain, no devastation. There was nothing. And that was the way Brooke usually liked it. Free sex, no strings. It was so much safer and so much smarter, really.

It was so silent in the apartment, Brooke could hear the water dripping in the sink. She glanced over at Nathan's open bedroom door. "_He always snores_," she had once overheard Haley complain to Peyton about Nathan's midnight invasions, "_I think I'd smother him with my pillow if I didn't like him so much."_

Brooke could hear another drop of water splash into the kitchen sink. She sat upright.

This was it. Her moment, her chance, her choice. It was all up to her now.

Was she going to take the leap and risk her heart again or sit back and stay safe?

Brooke swallowed hard and clutched her sheets around her. Slowly, shakily, she rose, walking as quietly as she could to Nathan's bedroom doorway. In the dim moonlight shining from the window, her skin looked milky and pale. She had a feeling she'd still look pale even if standing in the sun at this particular moment, despite weeks of tanning either through bottle or lounge chair.

She turn back now and stretch out on the couch again, a little shaky, a little disappointed, but safe, pretending she had never been this close _or_…

Brooke stood in the doorway, her hand gripping the frame hard.

Or…

Could she?

The indecision lingered, but not for much longer. Brooke's hand loosened and eventually fell. She tossed her head over her shoulder to give the couch a long stare. It was a haven, a shelter, a retreat, a…_cage_.

Brooke took a deep breath, held it for one, two, three seconds and exhaled. Then she padded into Nathan's bedroom.

**Author's Note: **And here we are, finally making progress with the N/B. You guys happy? Think it was too rushed? Any opinions at all? Come on, you guys left great reviews last chapter, so let's do it again this chapter! ;) Really, you guys are awesome, and I love to hear what you think.

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	14. Your Perfect Girlfriend

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Fourteen: **Your Perfect Girlfriend

As Brooke ventured further into Nathan's room, the moonlight provided her with a clear view of Nathan's half-covered body and his eyes glittering darkly as he stared up at the ceiling. He was completely still, and Brooke, well accustomed to the darkness by now, could just make out the stony expression on his face. As she took another step forward, her shadow crept onto his bed, and Nathan happened to notice. Immediately, his eyes flew shut and his expression melted into one of false relaxation.

"Don't even try to feed me that bullshit. I know you're awake," Brooke whispered, afraid to break the quiet for a reason even she wasn't aware of. She stood there, waiting relatively patiently, and wasn't disappointed as Nathan opened one reluctant eye when he realized she wasn't going to leave. "Baby," she muttered under her breath.

"Brooke," he said, his voice kept carefully gruff and guarded, although she could see the surprise written in his eyes, both of which were now open. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk," she said simply, verging on petulantly. She sat on a tiny corner of his bed, careful not to come in any sort of contact with him.

This seemed to annoy him. "We were talking. You were the one that pushed me out, remember?"

Brooke fought to keep cool. "It was getting a little intense," she said, choosing her words cautiously.

Nathan scoffed. "You got scared."

She shot him a glare. "Maybe. But you were pushing the limits. We both were."

"What limits?" Nathan challenged.

This was it. Brooke swallowed. Her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to speak, to find the right words. Finally, she decided on the direct approach. "We were flirting, Nate."

"So what?" Nathan burst out bitterly. His voice was mocking as he repeated her words from only earlier that day. "Kissing is no big thing. Having sex is not even worth mentioning most of the time. Where the hell does that leave flirting?"

Brooke stuck out her chin defiantly. "This is different."

"How, Brooke?" Nathan pressed. "How is this different?"

"You know how," she said, keeping her gaze steady on him.

He matched the stare with equal intensity. "No, I really don't. Enlighten me."

Brooke swallowed, hard. He was trying to push her into something she wasn't sure she was ready for. He should know better. How could he be so cold? After Lucas, and the baby, and everything…why was he doing this to her? She studied him carefully. His expression was expectant and determined, his lips set in a thin, straight line. He was propped up by his elbows, and she could see his shoulders were tense. His eyes, however, she realized with a start, his eyes told another story.

She saw confusion and uncertainty mixed with aggravation and what might have very well been desire. For the first time, she could see things from his point of view. _She _had come into _his _room late at night, and _she _was trying to be difficult. _She _was the one who had pushed him out earlier, and now _she _was trying to pull him back into their tired, old habit. She had been throwing him away and yanking him back so much this past week, he must have felt like an abused yo-yo. And while he said he could handle all her issues, she knew it wasn't fair that she treated him like this. He didn't deserve that.

He was watching her intently, and though he remained silent, Brooke could feel the frustration emanating from him. She couldn't blame him.

"_We're _different," she finally said after a lengthy period of silence. He quirked a brow, and she continued to explain. "I lied to you, Nate. That kiss last night, it shouldn't have been a big deal, but it _was_. To me, at least. I just…I…" she trailed off helplessly, making nonsensical gestures with her hands.

Nathan brought himself up to a sitting position, and his hands shot out to grasp hers, holding them tightly to stop their motion. "The kiss was a big deal to me too," he said, "I told you that. And it wasn't just because I betrayed Haley. I'm not going to lie. I wanted it to happen again." A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face. "But maybe in a different situation."

"I won't be Peyton," Brooke whispered. Her arms crossed across her chest stubbornly, and her eyes shone with an emotion Nathan couldn't place.

His grip on her hands tightened and then relaxed in one soothing squeeze. "I don't want you to be," he assured her. "I can barely stand myself now for what I'm doing to Haley. I should have broken up with her before I started talking like this to you."

"It feels wrong," Brooke admitted.

"Maybe you should go back to the living room," Nathan suggested, albeit reluctantly. "We can get this all sorted out in school tomorrow."

Brooke nodded but felt a strange lump in her throat. She didn't want to go. Reason, however, for the first time in a long time, was the stronger voice. "We wouldn't want to do anything we'd regret later," she said softly.

"Yeah," Nathan agreed. He released his grip on her hands, allowing her to pull away.

But Brooke wasn't ready yet. She leaned in and placed an innocent kiss on his cheek, pausing to whisper, "You better not disappoint me, Scott."

Nathan felt a tingle running up his spine. Technically, they weren't doing anything _wrong_, but it all felt so traitorous. He swallowed and raked a wobbly hand through his hair. His other hand clenched into a fist around his bed sheets. "You should go, Brooke," he said in a tight whisper.

She understood. She had felt a catch of breath too in those past few seconds. They were so close to crossing that precious line. Maybe they already had. Shaken, Brooke pulled away and scrambled off the bed. "I'm sorry," she said, though she was uncertain as to what exactly she was apologizing for. Looking back, she might have liked the idea that it was an apology that encompassed everything that had happened and everything that would happen in the future. Brooke hadn't been lying when she told him he would have to give up and take on more than he bargained for just for her. She came with a heavy price.

Nathan smiled at her lopsidedly. It was a welcome change from the somber tone that had enveloped most of the night. He looked adorable with his tousled hair and rumpled bed sheets around him and that tired, silly expression. Her heart nearly melted just watching him. "Don't be," he said. "There's nothing you need to be sorry for."

It was a lie, but it brought a smile to Brooke's face all the same. "Goodnight, Nathan," she said contentedly before drifting out of his room. She shut the door behind her and walked over to Nathan's couch, her bed for the night, and collapsed onto it, for the first time realizing how tired she actually was. Maybe she would get some sleep tonight after all.

In fact, it wasn't ten minutes later when her eyes began to blink, too heavy to keep open for more than a few seconds at a time.Two minutes after that, it was apparent they wouldn't open again. Despite the fact that the couch was slightly lumpy, and the sheets were impossibly tangled from all her tossing and turning earlier, a peaceful smile touched her lips, and her sleep was uninterrupted until the next morning.

Unfortunately, her wake-up call was not nearly as pleasant as her slumber had been.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_!" A gruff voice echoed through the apartment.

Brooke's nose twitched, and she turned over, murmuring softly. A door to the left of her flew open, banging against the wall loudly. Her lips curved into a frown as she burrowed her head further under her covers. Surely, it had only been a couple hours since she had fallen asleep. It was much too early…

"Damn it, Brooke!" a dismayed voice exclaimed above her. A pair of hands shook her shoulders, trying their best to be gentle but affected by a strong sense of urgency. "You need to wake up now!"

Brooke grumbled. "Two more minutes," she pleaded, still half-asleep.

"No more minutes!" the voice howled. "We've already missed half of first period!"

Brooke's eyes flew open. She shot up into a sitting position, only to have the top of her head collide with Nathan's chin. "Shit!" she cried, her eyes watering as she clutched at the injury. She glanced up at a pajama-clad Nathan to see him wince and cradle his chin.

"I'll get us some ice," he said through clenched teeth. "You get our stuff together."

"Having trouble now that Mommy's not around to dress you anymore?" she shot back. The stress level that morning was quickly shredding apart her cheerful mood from the night before.

Nathan shook his head. "Don't be a bitch, Brooke. We don't have time today."

Brooke stuck her tongue out at him and scampered into his room. Nathan watched her for a few seconds before turning and heading towards the kitchen to get a couple baggies of ice.

Once in Nathan's room, Brooke was faced with a serious dilemma. She had had no trouble picking out his outfit (a blue polo shirt that brought out his eyes and a pair of khaki shorts that showcased his ass—she was never too fond of his hoodies and basketball shorts) but her own outfit proved to be a problem. She hadn't brought any extra clothes with her to Nathan's house, and she had thrown her clothes from yesterday in the wash last night. They were soaking wet. For once, she actually had _nothing _to wear.

Panicked, Brooke dove into his drawers, tearing through them at an alarming rate. Surely, there had to be something, _anything_, close to her size. "Tutor girl had to have left something here at some point," she muttered under her breath.

"Nope," Nathan said behind her. She whirled around to see him standing in the doorway with two dripping baggies of ice in his hand as he stared at the destruction she had created in his room while searching for something to wear. "Clothes don't come off in this house. No action, remember?"

"Prudes are no fun," Brooke said grouchily. It was a bitchy thing to say, but at the moment, she didn't particularly care. Haley had been her only lifeline. They didn't have time to drop by Brooke's house this morning.

"Hey," Nathan said warningly. He didn't look happy. "Don't talk like that about Haley."

Brooke knew where he was coming from, but it didn't stop the jealousy from coursing through her. "Sorry," she muttered, "didn't mean to insult your perfect girlfriend."

"Fuck, Brooke," Nathan snapped. "What's your problem this morning?"

"Nothing," she retorted, still savagely searching through Nathan's things.

Nathan shook his head disgustedly. "Here's your ice pack," he said, tossing it to the floor beside her. "Meet me in the car."

"What about Haley's car?" Brooke asked.

"She's going to come home with me this afternoon to pick it up. She doesn't want you driving it anywhere."

"Nice to see she has so much trust in me," Brooke spat.

"Can you blame her?" Nathan challenged.

Brooke stood, holding the ice pack, a pair of jeans Nathan had outgrown, her belt from last night, and one of his old hoodies. "Apparently not," she hissed as she brushed past him rudely on the way to the bathroom. Nathan was left to stare blankly in bemusement.

When Brooke exited the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she was in a possibly worse mood than before. She had no make-up on, the hoodie she wore made her top half look shapeless, but the stained, dirty tank top from yesterday--the only thing that hadn't been thrown in the washing machine--she wore underneath looked even worse.The jeans sat low on her hips, not in a sexy way, but in a serious danger of falling off way despite the fact that she had buckled her belt using the last hole.

She stormed through the apartment, gathering her things in a plastic grocery bag as she went along, and finally headed outside, slamming the door shut behind her. She was halfway surprised to see Nathan sitting in his stalled car in front of the building.

"You waited," she said as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"I said I would," he retorted.

Brooke shrugged. "People don't always mean what they say."

"More cryptic allusions," he said sarcastically, "that's exactly what I needed this morning."

"They're not so cryptic if you stop to think about them," Brooke said with a sidelong glance in his direction.

He steadfastly refused to meet her eyes. "Well, we don't really have time for that this morning."

Brooke's lips pursed, and she put up an obvious effort to keep her cool. _You deserved that_, she reminded herself, thinking about the way she had acted earlier. "I'm trying to apologize here," she said moodily.

"Really?" Nathan said, raising a brow. "Doesn't sound like it to me."

"Well, I am," Brooke insisted. "In my own weird way, I really am. I shouldn't have acted the way I did this morning. I didn't mean half the things I said. I'm not sure what got into me."

Nathan sent her a pained smile. "I think I do. You were trying to push me away again. You're always trying to push me away."

He parked his car into the school parking lot just as Brooke began her protests. "We don't have time for this now, Brooke," he said, cutting her off as he clambered out of the car. He was just about to slam the door shut when he noticed she had made no effort to move from the passenger seat. Annoyed, he poked his head in. "What are you waiting for?"

Brooke glared at him defiantly, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "I think I'll just stay here."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "So you can steal _my _car? Come on, Brooke, we're late enough as it is."

"No." Her glare melted into a pout, and she chewed on her lip in an almost insecure way. Nathan's brow shot up in bemusement. "I promise I won't steal your car," she said flatly, "but there is no way I'm coming out."

"Why not?" Nathan nearly tore his hair out in frustration.

"I can multitask," she replied in that same flat tone.

Nathan stopped mid-rave, his hands falling limply down at his sides. "_What_?" he demanded.

Brooke pursed her lips. "While I was trying to apologize to you, even though I should have known it would be useless since you're so stubborn, I was looking in the little car mirror at the same time and noticing just how bad I look in _this_." She gestured down at herself, and Nathan noted for the first time how his clothes fit on her. It wasn't a flattering look. "Exactly," Brooke said, seeing the expression that had crossed his face. "I am not going to throw myself out there in a place where everybody is just waiting to pounce on me like wolves. Wolves, Nathan. They'll tear me apart."

Nathan let out an exasperated breath. His shoulders slumped. "I'm sure you're overreacting," he said.

"I'm not," Brooke said persistently. "And I'm not going out there."

The look on Nathan's face could only be described as sort of pained and long-suffering. "I can't skip school, Brooke," he said reasonably. "I just got emancipated. Imagine how that will look to everyone."

"Well, you don't have to imagine how I'll look to everyone," Brooke hissed, "because you can see me right now. High school is made up of predator and prey, Nathan, and if I walk in there like this I'll be on the wrong side of the food chain."

"You're the most popular girl in school, Brooke," Nathan said, hoping he sounded reasonable. "You'll probably end up setting a trend or something."

"Grunge was so three years ago. Everybody knows that," Brooke snapped.

"Of course, I'm such a dumb ass," Nathan mumbled under his breath, irritated. Brooke shot him a dangerous look, and he was quick to recompose himself. "I mean, I'll be with you the whole time too, and I'm the most popular guy so…"

"Get over yourself," Brooke said rudely.

Nathan's blue eyes were wide and innocent. He looked really cute that way, Brooke decided, before remembering that she was supposed to be arguing with him. Her gaze darkened as he began to speak. "Well, am I?"

Brooke smirked. "Lucas has been taking the limelight recently," she said.

His expression soured. "That was cold."

Brooke giggled despite herself, and soon neither of them could hide their smiles. "You'll be fine, Brooke," Nathan assured her after a few quiet moments. "Nobody can bring you down. You're stronger than that."

"I am pretty tough, aren't I?" Brooke said lightly. She took flattery well. "I shouldn't have to worry about the big, bad high school kids."

Nathan laughed. "Considering you're one of them, definitely not. Are you ready to come out now?"

Brooke thought for a moment. She shook her head. "No." Nathan looked like he was about to start yelling, and she was quick to continue. "But I will anyway. If anybody gives me any bullshit, I'll just have you beat them up for me."

"…good plan," Nathan said, only halfway certain that she was joking. Brooke shot him a big smile, and Nathan returned it with considerably less enthusiasm, and she hopped out of the car. Nathan sighed with relief and finally slammed his own door shut. When he met Brooke in front of the car, he was forced to stifle a snort of laughter. His clothes looked even more ridiculous on her when she was standing up as they threatened to swallow her thin frame. Apparently, they had already gotten a hold of her hands and feet as the appendages were nowhere to be seen under the mounds of extra fabric.

"You just had to get an extra-large, didn't you?" Brooke said. She shook her head disgustedly as she began marching off in the direction of their first period classroom. "Boys." Nathan followed her, still struggling to keep himself in check, but his smirk was quickly exchanged for a look of bewilderment as they walked through the front door. He could have sworn Brooke had nodded amiably in greeting to one of the potheads in the parking lot.

There was little time to ponder this new development, however, as the pair raced through the hallways to get to Mr. Nicholson's class. "Don't see why we're bothering," Brooke huffed as they turned a corner and his door came into view. "The bell should be ringing any…"

The bell rang.

Nathan's groan was drowned out by the sounds of hundreds of students gathering their things throughout the school and pouring out into the hallway. Brooke might have been the only person able to hear him if her attention hadn't been otherwise averted.

"Umm, Nathan?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?" Nathan said, his head bent back to stare straight up at the ceiling as if asking the higher powers what he had done to deserve such misfortune.

"Did you tell Haley I was sleeping over at your apartment last night?"

His head shot back up so fast Brooke might have feared he had gotten whiplash if her eyes weren't still glued on something just ahead of them in the hallway. "No, why…" The question died on Nathan's lips and his blood ran cold as he followed her gaze to an incredulous and hurt-looking Haley standing frozen just outside Mr. Nicholson's classroom.

**Author's Note:** Summer's crazy, but hey, I'm back! Finally, right? And bearing gifts too—Brooke and Nathan are finally making real, actual, spoken-out-loud progress with each other. Of course, they backpedal just as much as they move forward, and then they move forward again, and then…Geez, talk about abused yo-yos. Obviously, Brooke has some work to do to get over her insecurities over Nathan/Haley, super-couple. So, yeah, I looked at the date, and I've been working on this story for over a _year_. Yeah. Long time. Is it coming to an end? Umm, tell you the truth, I don't even know yet. I let this story take its own course. I do, however, doubt that it will make the 20 chapter mark, and this is chapter 14, so you do the math…another year worth of writing, lol, considering how slow I go. I'm so, so sorry. Really. I hope I still have readers after such a long time. Please let me know what you think in a review!

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	15. Horror Show

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

You guys are going to hate me…

**Chapter Fifteen: **Horror Show

"Shit," Nathan finally said, not having moved an inch since he had locked eyes with Haley a little over a minute ago.

"Deep shit," Brooke agreed. He started in surprise; he had all but forgotten she was there beside him. She pursed her lips but said nothing on the matter, focusing instead on the bigger drama unfolding in front of them. "You should go talk to her before she gets the wrong idea," she nudged him gently.

Nathan glanced back down at her. "Whatever she thinks up wouldn't be that far from the truth probably," he pointed out.

She glared back. "Yeah, it _would_," she said testily. "You and I didn't do anything."

"Well, technically…" Nathan began.

"That didn't count," Brooke interrupted him. She knew she was contradicting what she herself had said only last night, but she was desperate to deny the idea that she might have actually cheated. "We've had this conversation already."

"_What_ didn't count?" an icy voice broke into the conversation. Nathan and Brooke's eyes both shot forward to see an irate Haley standing in front of them. Her eyes shot to her boyfriend. "Nathan?" she demanded.

"Haley," he said desperately, reaching out for her arm. Brooke grimaced at the irony as he continued, "It's not what you think…"

Yanking herself out of his grasp, Haley's eyes filled with tears, and she brushed them away angrily. Brooke felt a wave of guilt crash over her upon seeing the hurt flooding through on Haley's face. She had always been a very open girl, wearing her emotions on her sleeve for all to see. It had less to do with a flare for the dramatics than it did with the fact that she had simply been raised to be honest. "What am I supposed to think, Nathan?" she challenged. "I see you and Brooke walking into school together, and she's wearing _your _clothes. There aren't many explanations for something like that."

"Now really isn't the best time to talk about all this," Nathan said. His eyes pleaded with her urgently, begging her to let this go, at least for now. Brooke remembered him mentioning that he would be taking Haley back to the apartment after school today to pick up her car. That was probably when he planned on explaining everything to her. It was certainly a better alternative to hashing everything out in school, she noted, counting the curious stares directed at the three of them.

"He's right, Haley," Brooke said, and when Haley leveled a furious glare on her she wasn't so sure she should have spoken. "You don't want to get into this here," she tried to explain. "People are staring."

"You were always way too concerned with what everybody else thought," Haley told her coolly. Brooke grimaced; she deserved the shot and many more. No doubt Haley thought that Brooke had slept with her boyfriend. She had every right to be furious. Brooke knew how it was. Nevertheless, Haley was always the rational one, and she could see reason even in the worst situations. She turned back to Nathan. "This afternoon we are going to have a very long talk," she said before turning away from both of them and walking off down the hall. No doubt the same rational side of her was begging her not to lose it in school, to keep her composure until she wasn't in the spotlight. Haley never liked too much attention.

Brooke frowned as she watched Haley disappear around a corner. She turned back to Nathan to see his eyes were shut and he was breathing very hard. She touched his hand lightly. "Playing dress up probably wasn't the best idea," she said. "I'm sorry. I should have remembered to throw my clothes in the dryer last night."

"It's not your fault," Nathan said. His eyes were still closed. "Inviting you to stay over in the apartment without telling her was stupid. I should have…I…I just…."

"Nothing happened," Brooke reminded him. Her fingers laced through his. "You didn't do anything to physically betray her."

"But," Nathan said. He fell silent for a few moments. Brooke waited him out, watching him carefully. His breathing calmed somewhat, and he spoke again. "Listen, Brooke," he finally opened his eyes and looked at her seriously. He pried his fingers out of hers, and she couldn't stop the confusion from invading her expression. He didn't seem to notice. "This whole thing between us, we need to cool it. We need to stay away from each other, at least for today."

Brooke's comforting expression froze on her face. Nathan's words seemed to echo in her mind, each time causing her more pain than the last. She was certain she must have resembled Haley at this point. She could practically feel the hurt twisting her face and forcing tears to gather in her eyes. She struggled to compose herself and found herself having more trouble than usual. "Right, cool it," she said bitterly.

Even Nathan couldn't miss the coldness that had accompanied her voice. He looked alarmed and hurried to retract his words. "Oh, God, Brooke, I didn't mean it like that," he said, but he did not make any move to touch her or hug her as he normally would have done. "I just meant we should lie low today. I should at least get everything cleared up with Haley before we start…you know. I don't want to hurt her any more than I already have. It'd probably be best if you and I weren't seen with each other today."

"That makes sense," Brooke admitted. She was far from reassured, however; Nathan wasn't meeting her eyes. "You should go," she said. "You know, fight off the rumors. I'll talk to you later."

Nathan nodded and gave her a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "I promise this will all get worked out," he said and touched her shoulder discreetly. He pulled away just as soon as he had done it as if her skin had burned him. For some reason, he looked away guiltily. "See ya, Brooke." He was gone before she could reply.

"Yeah, bye, Nathan," Brooke said with a frown, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear. Whispers hissed in her ears, and Brooke was pulled out of her reverie to see pointing fingers and gossiping classmates. All attention was directed towards her. She stifled a groan. She was suddenly very aware of how all of this must have looked to everyone and she tugged uncomfortably at the sleeves on Nathan's hoodie. This, in turn, reminded her of her current attire, and it was an effort to keep her head up high as she strolled over to her locker. She looked in the mirror that hung inside and bit her lip. Nathan had promised to stand by her today. It certainly would have eased the humiliation. It wasn't just the fact that she looked bad; it was that she looked like she had slept with him. She looked like the whore she used to be.

Angry tears sprung at the corners of her eyes, and she was overcome with the desire to erase the image in the mirror. She tugged off the hoodie forcefully and threw it inside her locker. Her tank top was stained with dirt and beer from her misadventures yesterday and did little to improve her reflection in the stupid mirror. She was suddenly very, very tired.

"What's going on, Brooke?" a voice demanded behind her.

This time, she didn't bother to hold back a moan. "Leave me alone, Peyton."

"No," Peyton said. "Haley just came running up to me and Lucas nearly in _tears_, saying how Nathan's cheated on her, and it was with _you_."

Brooke's eyes flashed as she spun around. "I don't have to explain anything to you."

Peyton sighed. She held up her hand in a gesture of peace. "I know you don't," she said. "It just all sounded really weird to me. I mean, really Brooke, after everything that's happened would you really do something like that?"

The fight left Brooke's expression, and her shoulders slumped. "I know it looks bad," she said, "but it's not like that. Not really. I don't know. It's complicated."

"Sounds like you need someone to talk to," Peyton said matter-of-factly.

A brow shot up on Brooke's face. "You're not my friend anymore."

"I know that," Peyton said, "but you're mine. And I want to help you." Brooke didn't look convinced, so she forged on ahead before the other girl could interrupt. "I understand that this won't fix things between us. You just really look like you need someone right now, and well, I'm here. I'm not expecting anything in return. I'm not even expecting us to be on speaking terms tomorrow. Just, for right now, I'm here for you, okay? No strings. We can go back to ignoring each other after everything blows over if that's what you want."

"You make it impossible to say no to you, Sawyer," Brooke grumbled.

"Are you sure you haven't gotten us mixed up?" Peyton asked brightly. Brooke glared, and Peyton sobered immediately. "Right, no friendly joking around. So did you want to skip next period and go to the bathroom and talk or something?"

"Just meet me at lunch, okay?" Brooke said. "I think I can hold it together until then."

"Sarcasm, already," Peyton said. "You'll definitely be okay. You're strong, Brooke."

"I don't need pep talks," Brooke said, remembering with a grimace Nathan saying something very similar to Peyton's encouragement earlier that morning.

Peyton grimaced as well. "This didn't used to be so hard."

"Well, what did you expect?" Brooke questioned softly. "I've changed and so have you."

"I miss us being friends, Brooke," Peyton said seriously.

"Don't get too attached," Brooke warned. "This is just a temporary truce, remember?"

"Yeah, I know," Peyton sighed. "I'll see you at lunch."

"Yeah," Brooke said. She scowled. "I've got to get to Algebra."

Peyton winced. "I don't think your feelings towards _that _have changed."

"Definitely not," Brooke agreed. "An hour and a half of total hell."

"Whoever invented the quadratic formula is a total sadist," Peyton agreed.

"Don't even mention that," Brooke said, "I totally failed the last test because of it. Way too many letters and symbols to keep it all straight."

Peyton nodded her head sympathetically. "I guess there's no use in telling you you'll do better next time."

"Because we both know I won't," Brooke finished. It had been a long-running joke between the two of them, and she was slightly surprised that she had allowed it to be employed by her ex-best friend. She smiled despite herself. "Bye, Peyton."

They headed in their separate directions, and Brooke's mind raced over what had just happened. She tried to calm herself. Peyton had promised there would be no strings, no obligation to be her friend. But after what had just happened with Nathan…Brooke's stomach turned. She could really use a friend. What was with Nathan anyway? Surely he wasn't having second thoughts? He had promised her…

Brooke paused as she reached the door to her Algebra class. The flash of memory of Nathan offering to tutor her assaulted her. She smiled bitterly, wondering if the offer still stood. Probably not. He was probably falling over himself to apologize to Haley right now, making promises not to come near Brooke with a ten-foot pole.

_You're being stupid_, Brooke told herself impatiently, _he said he wanted to be with _you.

She shook her head and turned the knob on the door handle. Algebra class might actually be a welcome distraction to the torment raging inside her head.

An hour and a half of mind numbing boredom later, Brooke couldn't decide whether she was better off or not. "At least it's lunchtime," she told herself as she raced out the door. An agitated growl of her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten breakfast that morning in her hurry to get to school. She dropped her books off at her locker and walked off in the direction of the cafeteria.

When she entered, the whole room seemed to hush momentarily, before exploding in a flurry of whispers and general chaos. She walked past the groups of lunching classmates uneasily, trying to figure out how word of her and Nathan had spread so fast. Her stomach growled again as she reached the lunch line, and with a sinking feeling she realized the gossip might not have been all about the fledging relationship between the head cheerleader and the basketball star. Brooke suddenly remembered that she had been involved in more than one scandal this weekend.

"Nathan's party," she moaned inaudibly to all those around her. "I'm going to kill Nikki."

"We should probably eat somewhere else today," Peyton came up behind her. "This place is crazy."

"Gossip hasn't been this good in Tree Hill since Theresa got a nose job," Brooke said scornfully.

"Just grab some corn, and come with me," Peyton said.

"It'll take too much time; just grab a pretzel and go," Brooke said, pointedly _not _remembering the time she had flirted with Nathan at his little pretzel stand and how cute he had looked in that stupid uniform.

"I thought we were going to the bathroom," she said minutes later, bemused, as she and Peyton walked straight past the Girls' Room right outside the cafeteria after they had finished paying for their lunches.

"Right," Peyton scoffed, "and take the chance of being cornered in the stall by a bunch of cheerleaders? No, thanks, I'll save that horror show for another day."

Brooke smirked despite her resolution to treat Peyton on no level other than cool indifference. "Okay, Miss Blondie, I see your point. Where are we going then?"

"My car," Peyton said with an air of pride in her voice. Her car was one of her more prized possessions. "Automatic locks on all the doors and capable of a quick getaway if needed. It's way safer than some dumb stall with broken door latches."

"I'll take the driver's seat," Brooke said, faintly amused, "I'm pretty good at quick getaways."

Peyton laughed. "It was the talent we never knew about." She shook her head as her chuckles dissolved away. By the time her curls had fallen back into place, the expression she wore was solemn. "But seriously, Brooke," she said, "You might want to consider sticking around, you know? You have to face these things."

Brooke smiled, but it was bittersweet. "I know. I've already promised not to run away anymore. Not so much in words but…" she trailed off as she remembered what had transpired between her and Nathan last night in the parking lot of the bar where he had told her not to run, and she had listened, knowing that in doing so she was committing herself to a promise she was still determined to keep.

"You're having one of those I-remember-something-deep-that-happened-between-me-and-Nathan moments, huh?" Peyton teased.

"And you know this because?" Brooke asked shortly. She wasn't fond of the idea of being read so easily.

"I've known you for years, Brooke," Peyton said earnestly.

Brooke could not refute this so she only crossed her arms and pursed her lips as a way to grudgingly admit the truth in Peyton's statement. She didn't actually say anything out loud, but Peyton still understood. She always did.

It was a quiet few moments as Brooke and Peyton walked out of the school and into the parking lot, and then another couple minutes before they were tucked away from any prying ears in the safety of Peyton's beloved car. Peyton had been gathering the confidence to ask Brooke the question that had been at the forefront of everybody's mind for the past few hours, knowing full well that her ex-best friend could easily be set off by any wrong word or gesture. She, in a style that had practically been invented by Brooke, decided to tackle the issue directly.

"So what exactly is going on between you and Nathan?"

Brooke lifted a sculpted brow, a smile touching the corners of her lips. "Don't tell me I've finally started rubbing off on you, Sawyer."

"Don't change the subject, Davis," Peyton shot back. She sobered quickly. "Really. What's up?"

The smile faded from Brooke's face as she fell into a contemplative silence. Peyton marveled at the change in her friend. Brooke was usually the type to blurt out whatever her instincts told her to, leaving no room for any type of thought process. She said what was on her mind, and there was _always _something on Brooke's mind at any given moment. She was very in touch with her feelings.

But now, it looked like she was actually trying to sort herself out. She seemed to be struggling with words that refused to come willingly. Confusion marred her features along with frustration and what looked to Peyton like desperation. Whatever Nathan had done to her, it had seriously thrown her off balance.

"I'm not sure," Brooke said finally, defeated. Peyton was about to open her mouth, to coax or comfort she wasn't sure, but Brooke stopped her with a brisk shake of her head. She wasn't finished.

"I really like him, Peyton," she admitted in a small voice. "I know it's wrong. He belongs to Haley, and all that. But I swear we haven't done anything. Not like…" Peyton could hear the _you and Lucas _that was fighting off the edge of Brooke's tongue to finish the sentence, and she could see a moment of indecision flash across Brooke's face, but in the end, she apparently had decided to put that behind her for now.

"It doesn't even matter anyway," Brooke said abruptly. "After that whole thing with Haley this morning, I don't think he's coming back." Her voice broke on the last word, and tears gathered in her eyes. It was with difficulty that she continued, "he promised me that everything would work out, but…" This direction seemed too hard for her to continue, so she took another approach. "This weekend was kind of like a dream, Peyt. It wasn't perfect or anything like that, but with Nathan…I guess it was just time to get back to reality, huh?"

Peyton frowned. "It's not like you've been running around in fantasy land all weekend, Brooke. _Everything _you did was very real."

"Maybe," Brooke said, turning away to face the window.

"Listen, Brooke, I'm not saying that what you and Nathan did was a good thing or anything like that, because it probably wasn't," Peyton sighed, "but it may have been something that needed to happen."

"I thought you didn't believe in all that cosmo-babble stuff," Brooke said bitterly.

"I don't," Peyton was quick to reassure her, "but I saw you at the party. When he walked in, and you looked at him…I don't know. There was something there. Didn't you feel it?"

"He's Haley's boyfriend," Brooke replied. "I wasn't supposed to feel anything."

"But you did, and you still do," Peyton insisted. "And so does Nathan."

"How would you know?" Brooke asked sharply.

"All you have to do is look at Haley," she replied.

"_What?_"

Peyton gave Brooke a patient stare as the other girl whipped around in her seat to face Peyton incredulously. "Haley's a sensible girl, Brooke. She doesn't get caught up in rumors or gossip or insecurities or anything like that."

"Of course not," Brooke broke in sourly. "She's perfect."

Peyton paid the comment no attention as she continued. "Haley wouldn't have come almost in tears to Lucas and me if she hadn't seen something there. She's not like that. But she's Haley, and she's smart, so she could tell that there was something going on between you and Nathan."

"Not anymore," Brooke said in a choked whisper. Something in Peyton's speech had triggered some type of strong emotion inside of Brooke, and tears were pooling at the corners of her eyes. "He changed his mind."

"I don't think he'd do something like that," Peyton comforted her.

"Lucas did," Brooke whispered harshly. "Maybe Nathan has realized his mistake and gotten out too. I'm not exactly the most stable person around here."

"Lucas didn't know what he was doing," Peyton said with a humorless laugh. "And we were both gigantic assholes for what we did to you. But I really think Nathan's better than that now."

"Haley made him better," Brooke said in a small voice.

"She did," Peyton said truthfully. Brooke glanced at her sharply, and she laughed again. "You're going to have to accept the fact that a lot of people think that Nathan and Haley made a really cute couple, Brooke. The bookworm and the star: it's just like some hokey movie or book or something like that. They were our high school's fairytale."

"And they'll live happily ever after," Brooke retorted.

"It looked like they would," Peyton admitted.

"They will," Brooke said with a roll of her eyes. "I should have known that before. I'm so stupid."

"You're not--," Peyton began.

"I am," Brooke interrupted, firm. A bell rang out, signifying the end of lunch. She smiled tightly at the other girl. "Thanks for the heart-to-heart, Sawyer, but I've got to get to class. If I don't get there on time, that witch Mrs. Carlson will give me a detention."

"Brooke," Peyton protested.

Brooke leveled a glare on her. "No strings, remember?"

The rest of the day passed by in a sort of miserable, confused blur. Brooke vaguely remembered sitting through the rest of her classes and telling Theresa in French that practice was called off for the day and directing the other girl to let the rest of the squad know. She remembered walking out to the parking lot before remembering that Nathan was taking Haley home, and her own car was sitting safely in her garage at home. She remembered seeing a flash of blonde hair and flying towards Bevin, begging for a ride.

And now, she was here, staring miserably at the apartment in front of her.

Why, _why _had she snapped at Bevin when she turned right, heading towards Brooke's house, instead of left? Why had she forced her squad-member to make a U-turn and drive in the opposite direction? Why had she ordered Bevin to drop her off in front of an all too familiar apartment building?

Why had she shooed Bevin away when the girl had offered to wait for her and give her a ride home whenever she had finished with whatever business she had here?

Had she been thinking at _all_?

No, Brooke mused, she couldn't have been. She couldn't have been in her right mind to purposefully strand herself miles away from home, at a place where she was neither invited nor welcome. Haley was probably in there right now, doing God-knows-what with Nathan.

Obviously, she had been slipped some kind of drug or something because there was_ no_ way she was really this stupid.

The door flew open. Brooke found herself face-to-face with Haley and froze.

Haley's face remained impassive. She opened her mouth and closed it. She tried again a few seconds later but only achieved the same result. She shook her head. After one deep, shuddering breath, she finally regained the ability to speak. "You need to talk with Nathan," she said calmly, before nudging past Brooke and walking to her car and getting in, not even bothering to check for any scratches or dents that might have occurred during Brooke's joyride last night. Maybe she had already done so.

Brooke could only watch mutely as Haley pulled out of the driveway and drove off. The other girl didn't even spare Brooke another glance, anything that could have to her what to expect when she spoke with Nathan, but Brooke couldn't find it in herself to hold it against her.

She watched until Haley's car disappeared around the door, before spinning around to face the door. She had already lifted her hand to knock when she realized Nathan was standing directly in front of her.

"We need to talk," he said somberly.

Brooke felt her stomach sink.

**Author's Note: **Hate me? Keep in mind that not everything is what it seems, and people don't always mean what they say. So I know there was some serious backsliding in this chapter, which sucks, yes, because I enjoy writing Nathan and Brooke together, and there was a serious lack of their bantering this chapter, but the story isn't finished yet. I'm hoping the (relatively) quick(er) update, and that the chapter is about 1/3 longer than usual makes up for everything. Thanks for all the great response last chapter. Seeing as how I had pretty much disappeared for a couple months, it was nice to know this story was still on some people's radar. Please let me know what you think this time around!

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	16. Truths and Fairytales

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Sixteen**: Truths and Fairytales

Mutely, Brooke allowed herself to be ushered into Nathan's apartment. He was trying to catch her gaze, and though Brooke had been desperate for a hint from Haley only minutes before, she now found that she didn't really want to know what he was going to say anymore. She was happy pretending like everything was okay. The truth could ruin it all.

"Brooke," he finally said. She still refused to even glance in his direction.

"Brooke," he repeated, "don't be like this. Please."

"Don't be like what, Nathan?" Brooke shot back. "Don't be upset? Don't be hurt? Don't you think I have a right to be?"

"You haven't even heard me out yet," Nathan protested.

"Are you going to tell me what I want to hear?" Brooke demanded. She finally dared to meet his eyes. She watched as regret passed through them, and he was forced to look away. "That's what I thought," she said softly.

"It's not like that," Nathan said.

"Then what's it like?" Brooke countered, exasperated. "Do you love Haley, Nathan? Do you?"

Nathan faltered. "I…"

"It's a yes or no question," Brooke said and was surprised to find herself near tears. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I promise I won't go all crazy and destroy your apartment if you say yes."

"I-I do love Haley," Nathan admitted, watching Brooke carefully for her reaction, "or at least I did. I'm not really sure. Everything just happened so fast with you and…"

"I get it," Brooke said softly.

"No, you don't," Nathan said desperately. He reached out to grasp her arm, even though she hadn't moved an inch. "You have to understand that I do like you, Brooke. A lot. But Haley…"

"You love her," Brooke said.

Nathan shook his head. "That wasn't what I was going to say."

"Then what exactly are you trying to say, Nathan?" Brooke demanded. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't know!" Nathan yelled in frustration. He forced himself to calm upon seeing the alarmed expression on Brooke's face. "I don't know," he repeated, considerably softer. "I'm sorry."

"You have to choose, Nathan," Brooke said. Her voice was wavering, but somehow she managed to hold back her tears. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to keep up a brave front for much longer, however. "And you have to do it soon. I'm not the kind of girl that waits around forever."

"I did choose," Nathan said. "I promised you, Brooke, remember?"

"I don't want you to be with me only because you feel like you have to," Brooke said.

"I want to be with you, Brooke," Nathan said, upset.

"More than you want to be with Haley?" Brooke shot back.

Nathan's eyes squeezed shut, and an aggrieved sigh escaped him. "I'm not sure," he confessed. "It shouldn't be this hard. If it were any other circumstance…"

"You wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me," Brooke said dryly. "I know." There was a pregnant pause as she mulled everything over. Peyton's words from earlier came back to her. "But you and Haley are like a fairytale. You're perfect for each other."

"Fairytales aren't real, Brooke," Nathan reminded her.

"We aren't either," Brooke said, gesturing between herself and him. "Not really."

Nathan looked away. Brooke swallowed, hard. She could feel the tears welling up again. "I should probably go," she said.

His head shot back up. "But we haven't even sorted anything out yet," Nathan protested, reaching for her.

Brooke skirted his hand. "_We_ don't need to sort anything out. _You _do." She smiled sadly. "I know what I want, Nathan."

Nathan watched her, his expression pained. "I'm doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do, aren't I?" he said. "I'm disappointing you."

"I'm used to it," Brooke muttered, avoiding his gaze. "Where's your phone? I need to call a cab or something."

"I can take you home," Nathan protested. "You don't need to call a cab."

Brooke glanced up at him briefly. "No, I really do," she said before returning her attention elsewhere, presumably her search for the telephone.

Nathan's shoulders slumped, and he walked over to the couch and plucked the phone out from between the cushions. He held it out to her and she reached for it with a muttered thanks. But he didn't let go. Brooke's eyes rose to his involuntarily.

He wasn't bothering to hide the desperation on his face. "Don't hate me, Brooke," he said, his voice scratchy and rough.

"I couldn't," Brooke said slowly, steadily staring back at him. "Even though I really want to right now."

Nathan took a sharp intake of breath at her last words and immediately let go of the phone both of them held as if it had burned him, but he couldn't deny her the right to be angry with him. Hell, he would've been furious. She was taking it all with a surprising calm, something he hadn't expected from her.

Brooke began to speak and gave Nathan a start, but as soon as he regained his bearings he realized what she was saying was not directed towards him. She must have dialed a number in the time he spent admiring her poise.

"Hello…Lucas?...Yeah, it's me. We're probably supposed to be mad at each other, or I'm at least supposed to be mad at you, I can't remember right now, but I need a huge favor…Okay. Can you come pick me up right now? I'm at Nathan's apartment…No, _I _didn't. _We _didn't…Please, Luke, just this one favor. Then we can go back to being whatever-the-hell we were before…Okay. Thanks, babe." Brooke took the phone away from her ear and pressed the off button. She looked up to find Nathan watching her expectantly. "Luke will be here in about ten minutes," she said innocently.

Nathan grimaced. Brooke may have had poise, but she was still every bit of a vengeful bitch. She must have known calling Lucas to pick her up would send a streak of jealousy through Nathan's nerves. She could have just as easily called Peyton. He had seen them walking out to Peyton's car today during lunch, presumably to dodge the rumors of Brooke's pregnancy and Nathan's possible infidelity.

"Lucas, huh?" Nathan couldn't help but drop his name bitterly.

Brooke lifted a brow at his tone. "You were right," she shrugged, "There was no reason for me to waste money on a cab."

"Oh," Nathan said with a scowl. This scenario wasn't exactly what he had had in mind when he had tried to talk her out of taking a cab. What _did _he have in mind anyway?

"Do you have a problem with Lucas taking me home?" Brooke asked curiously.

Nathan struggled to school his demeanor into one of neutrality. It didn't work. "I shouldn't," he said.

"But you do," Brooke said slowly.

"Well, what do you expect?" Nathan burst out. "It's sort of like the triangle you, me, and Haley have going on, isn't it? I don't want you to be with him, and you don't want me to be with her."

"Yeah, except I don't want to be with him," Brooke shot back. "You're the one that I want, Nathan, and you know it. I wish you could say the same about me."

Nathan didn't have anything to counter this argument. He raked a hand through his hair and rubbed his forehead miserably. "All I'm asking for is time," he finally said.

The sound of a knock came from the door. "Brooke? You ready?" a familiar voice called.

Brooke looked at Nathan sharply. He could feel her gaze tearing through his, demanding for something he wasn't sure he could give yet. Images of Haley and Brooke danced in his mind, blurring behind his eyes. The choice was still unclear. He looked away.

Brooke's expression tightened. "Time's up," she said softly, spinning on her heel and fleeing out to Lucas.

Nathan was frozen in place, his daze only to be shattered by the sound of the door slamming. He moaned, frustrated and angry, as his eyes slid shut. There was only one picture behind them now. His hand clenched tightly, and his eyes flew open wide again.

Nathan cursed and threw his fist into the wall.

The sound went unheard by Brooke as Lucas pulled out of the parking lot of Nathan's apartment complex. "Thanks again," she told Lucas, keeping her gaze firmly directed out the passenger's side window.

"Yeah," Lucas said, sounding distracted. He looked over at her. "Are you going to tell me why you were there?"

Brooke's eyes flitted to his momentarily. "No."

Lucas did that strange, yet oddly endearing half-smile that Brooke had found adorable back when they were dating. "I didn't think you would," he said.

"Then why'd you ask?" Brooke challenged.

Lucas shrugged. He turned his attention back to the road. "You didn't cheat with Nathan," he said. It was more a statement than a question.

"Of course not."

Lucas smiled again, though it was bittersweet. "I knew you wouldn't do that. Not after…everything."

"Haley thinks I did," Brooke said, knowing she had to tread carefully. Haley was Lucas's best friend. She didn't want to set him off.

"She was pretty convinced," Lucas said. "I almost believed her."

"What made you change your mind?" Brooke asked curiously.

"You're just not that kind of person."

"Definitely not," Brooke said forcefully. Lucas glanced over, and she could see guilt stricken across his features through the reflection in her window.

He seemed more hesitant now. "But you guys…"

"We were flirting," Brooke admitted. "More than we should have."

"Are you guys together now?" Lucas asked. There was something strange in his voice. Something that didn't belong…

Brooke leveled a cool glare on him. "That's none of your business." Then, before he could apologize, she added in a small voice, "But no, we aren't."

It was more than a casual glance this time when Lucas looked over. She was tempted to snap at him to pay attention to the road, but she didn't want him to know he had gotten under her skin like that. "I'm sorry," Lucas finally said.

"Don't be," Brooke answered firmly. It was an effective end to a strained conversation. They remained silent for the rest of the way home.

"Thanks for the ride," Brooke mumbled as Lucas pulled into her driveway. He nodded in affirmation, and she climbed out of the car. She was ready to shut the door when he reached out to stop her. She looked at him questioningly.

"Haley really loves Nathan," Lucas said, speaking slowly and watching carefully for her reaction. "She's been really hurt by all of this."

Brooke fidgeted and looked away, wishing she had gone ahead and shut the door anyway. "I know."

"She's my best friend, Brooke," Lucas said, "I know I'm the last person that should be lecturing you about this right now, but I have to stick up for her. She and Nathan…"

"Are perfect together! Yes, I know!" Brooke exploded suddenly. Everything that had been building up inside her that day finally seemed to be unleashing itself. "Everybody knows! _He _knows!" Angry, she found herself near tears. Her voice softened. "I was never looking to fall for Nathan. I would have never even talked to him that day in the library if I had known it would come to all this. I've made too many people miserable because of it. It's just…"

"Just what?" Lucas prompted gently.

"He made me happy," Brooke said, her eyes blurring and her voice cracking on the last word.

Lucas's face twisted into one of regret and what looked dangerously like pity. "Brooke…"

Brooke shook her head. If she had seen the pity in his eyes, she might have very well slammed the door in his face, but as it was, she didn't notice. "After everything that you and Peyton did, I was so messed up. I didn't even feel like myself anymore. But then I got to know Nathan, and there was just something there. He helped me forget about you guys. He pulled me back. I thought I could trust him."

"He had a girlfriend," Lucas pointed out tentatively.

Brooke shot him a truly bitter look, one filled with hurt and betrayal. "That didn't stop you."

Lucas winced. He had walked himself into that one. "You know you didn't want that to happen, Brooke," he reasoned. "You didn't want Nathan to be that guy, and you didn't want to be that girl."

"We weren't," Brooke insisted.

"You were close."

"It isn't the same."

"You would have felt guilty," Lucas said, the certainty clear in his voice. "If everything had worked out the way it was supposed to, you wouldn't have been able to stand yourself. You probably can't even look at Haley now as it is."

Brooke looked like she wanted to argue but instead scowled and looked away. "Why do you have to know all these things?"

"It's called experience," Lucas said, regretful.

"We both know you've had plenty of that," Brooke mumbled.

Lucas could only nod, and Brooke sighed. "Listen, Lucas, thanks for the advice or the lecture or…whatever this whole thing was. I know you're trying to help. I just really need to be alone now, okay?"

Lucas half-smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, and nodded again. "I understand. Take care of yourself, Brooke, okay? I know Haley's my best friend, and I should be taking sides, but just call if you need to. I would never be able to say no to you."

"Thanks, Lucas. I might just take you up on that offer," Brooke said, not entirely insincere.

Lucas made a gesture of affirmation and said goodbye before backing out of her driveway. As he pulled out onto the road, he paused to look at her, and she waved. He smiled and waved back, then drove off. It wasn't until long after he had disappeared around the corner that Brooke realized what he had given her. It wasn't really advice, and it was even less a lecture. It could have loosely been termed as consolation, but that didn't quite fit either. It was just the truth.

Brooke smiled wistfully and a tear rolled down to her face. It was time to get inside.

She made her way up to her bedroom and dove straight for her bed without bothering to shut the door. Nobody was home anyway. It was just her all alone, like always. She clutched at her pillow tightly, screwing her eyes shut as they blurred with tears. He didn't deserve this much from her, she tried to tell herself. She wasn't going to do this.

But she was. It was too hard to hold back. She buried her face into her pillow and sobbed.

It lasted a good twenty minutes and could have gone for much longer had her solitude not been interrupted.

"I made you cry," an awed voice said from her doorway. Brooke started, and her head shot up to see a horror-stricken Nathan standing there. "I never wanted to do that to you. But I did."

Brooke felt much too naked and vulnerable than she would have like in that moment. "Go away," she said, trying to muster up the energy to sound fierce, though she doubted that it worked since he hadn't budged.

"Brooke," he said, still using that soft, stunned tone that she was quickly growing to despise. "You told me how bad Lucas hurt you, and I promised myself that I would never be like him. And now I've gone and hurt you just as bad, haven't I?"

"At least spare me my dignity, Nathan," Brooke said tiredly. "Don't make me answer that. You already know."

"I'm sorry," Nathan said. Tentatively, he ventured further into her room and sat on the very edge of her bed. Brooke scooted farther up against her headboard. "Really."

"I know you are," Brooke said. "So if that's all you came to say then you wasted your time."

Nathan looked pained. "Brooke, I made a mistake."

Brooke's knuckles turned white as she clutched the comforter beneath her. "A mistake?" she repeated.

"A really stupid one," Nathan said, shaking his head in shame. "I acted like a total asshole."

"I actually prefer bastard," Brooke piped up.

Nathan shot her a sharp look, before his face loosened into a rueful smile. "I guess either one works. But I don't want to be that kind of guy anymore." He took a deep breath and looked up at her hopefully. "So I fixed things."

Brooke eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean by _fixed things_?"

"I was a mess earlier, Brooke. I just kept picturing you and Haley, Haley and you, back and forth again, and I was so confused. I couldn't figure out what I wanted. And then you walked out, Brooke, and I realized how stupid I was. There was a reason why everything happened this weekend. There was a reason why I let things go so far, even while I was dating a girl who I supposedly loved.

"I wanted you, Brooke. I wanted you then, and I still want you now."

Brooke was incredulous. This was what she had wanted to hear, but…

"And I broke up with Haley," Nathan added. "Before I came over here, I dropped by Haley's, and we had a long talk and decided it wasn't working out anymore."

"Because of me," Brooke said dully.

Nathan fidgeted. "Well, yeah. As much as I care about Haley, you're the one that I want to be with." He hesitated at her frozen expression. "Is that still what you want?"

Brooke leaned back against her headboard made a noise that sounded very much like a moan. "Of course, it is," she said. "But you hurt me pretty bad, and it was only like an hour ago, Nathan. You had no idea what was going on, and all of the sudden you have some huge revelation? How does that work? I don't know if I can trust it."

Nathan studied her carefully. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe you were right before. You need time."

"But I don't! I know…"

Brooke crawled over closer to him and put a finger to his lips, effectively ending his protests. "You do," she said. "A few days, at least. Make sure this is what you really want. I don't want to be hurt like that again."

"I won't," Nathan insisted.

Brooke shook her head. "Please, just do this for me. Just see how these next few days go, and if you change your mind, fine. I'll get over you. But if you don't, then we'll talk, okay?"

Nathan finally surrendered. "Only for you," he said, disappointment laced in his voice. "You deserve it."

"It's totally necessary," Brooke asserted. "You'll see."

"Am I allowed to talk to you during these next few days?"

"Of course," Brooke said. As an afterthought, she added, "But no flirting…or other stuff."

"Got it," Nathan said. He stood from her bed. "I guess I should probably go then."

"Yeah, probably," Brooke agreed.

Nathan grunted a goodbye, and Brooke acknowledged it with a nod. He paused at her doorway. "I won't change my mind, Brooke. That's a promise. A _real _one," he said before disappearing down the hallway.

Brooke grabbed her pillow and pulled it in close again. It sounded like the truth, but was it?

She'd have her answer soon enough, she hoped.

**Author's Note: **Finally finished chapter sixteen! I was aiming for under a month but it's been a little over one. Oh well. I hope you liked it! Also, giving credit where credit is due, the chapter title, in part, and all the little mentions of fairytales in the chapter and the chapter before it were inspired by _Fairytales _by **Mrs. O-Town**. Just kind of as a shout-out to my favorite story on the site, I guess. If you haven't checked it out already (which I can't see why not), I really encourage you to do so. I also I really encourage you to review this chapter as well! ;) Come on. We're getting close to what may be the end, and now is _not_ the time to be a read-but-not-reviewer.

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	17. The Worst Gentleman

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Story Notes: **The bulk of the information on the judicial bypass law came from http / scholar . lib . vt . edu / VA-news / VA-Pilot / issues / 1997 / vp970209 / 02090048 . htm (without the spaces).

**Chapter Seventeen: **The Worst Gentleman

Getting by the next few days proved to be a challenge for both Brooke and Nathan. She'd see him in the halls and scamper up to him to tease him about a shirt that she distinctly remembered Peyton buying for him at least two years ago and then remember their agreement and stop in her tracks. He would come up behind her and reach up a hand to ruffle her perfectly brushed hair then she would happen to meet his eyes, and he would change course and offer a lame wave hello.

It was torture for both of them, but Brooke was stubborn. She remained firm in her beliefs that something had to happen. Somehow, he would prove himself to her.

Meanwhile, she occupied herself with an equally unpleasant task that needed attending to. The three month mark was fast approaching for her pregnancy, and she would be out of her prime for abortion. If she was going to go through with it, it had to be soon.

"I just need to know a little bit more," she reasoned, absently setting a hand on her stomach. She looked down, and her eyes grew wide. Was it just her imagination, or was it really feeling a bit more round?

"You're a rail, Brooke," Nathan's voice breathed into her hair.

Brooke spun to find him only inches away. "Jesus," she said, "you scared me."

"Too busy being a total girl and obsessing about your weight?" he said, quirking a brow.

"I have a reason to be worried," Brooke defended herself. "Pregnant girls don't stay skinny."

"But you are," Nathan insisted.

Brooke squinted her eyes at him in a fair imitation of Lucas and then glanced down at her stomach again uncertainly. She still fit into her favorite jeans comfortably enough, and besides a few dashes to the bathroom in the beginning, she had pretty much evaded morning sickness. Maybe pregnancy had struck a deal with her body; it wouldn't plague her with troublesome symptoms until she had made a definite action, one way or the other.

"For right now," Brooke grudgingly agreed.

"So you're keeping it?" Nathan asked, curious.

"I didn't say that either," Brooke looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It wasn't my place to ask, I know. You'll tell everybody when you're ready."

Brooke nodded, and an uncomfortable silence ensued. She shifted back and forth on her heels while Nathan racked his brain for something to say. He opened his mouth, but she was already walking away.

"Sorry," she called over her shoulder, "lots to do!"

"Sure," Nathan muttered, waving weakly at her retreating back.

It was only a coincidence that she found herself in front of the library, Brooke tried to reassure herself as she remembered that this was where she and Nathan had first really started talking to each other. She had needed to come here anyway to do some research. She had never really finished what she had started that short while ago before Lucas had interrupted her.

Brooke was pleased to find that the computer area was pretty empty. Apparently, the students at Tree Hill High did not have the initiative to study through lunch. _Shame on them_, Brooke thought cheerfully as she settled down at an unoccupied computer a good distance away from a freshman boy that seemed to be completely immersed in some Star Wars game.

Her spirits dampened considerably as she pulled up Google on her computer. She already knew what the procedures for an abortion were, but there were other factors to consider. Specifically, how she would actually go about setting up such a surgery. She typed in a few keywords and waited.

After scanning through a couple of virtually useless websites, Brooke hit gold. "Abortion laws in North Carolina," she mouthed the heading off the page. Her heart sank as she read on.

_North Carolina law restricts young women's access to abortion services by mandating parental consent._

_No_, Brooke thought, biting her lip and staring hard at the screen, as if willing the words away. Despite her best attempts, they continued to taunt her in bold black letters glowing out from the harsh glare of the computer. The whole point of this was so that her parents wouldn't find out. They couldn't find out. She would be homeless.

Desperation clawed at the insides of her stomach, and she began typing furiously into the computer. This couldn't be the only option. There had to be a way around this.

Her answer came in the form of the judicial bypass law, passed in North Carolina in October of 1995 alongside the same law that required for her to obtain parental consent. Instead of going to her parents as that law dictated, she could take this to the courts.

Brooke bit her lip. To the courts? The idea of an unsympathetic judge dismissing her as a party girl and denying her request seemed intimidating almost, but she read on. It did get better, though she was still somewhat daunted by the whole court aspect.

"Completely confidential," she mouthed as she read. Only about three of a hundred cases that came in a year were denied…Maybe she _could _do this. She'd have to do a lot more research and some serious soul-searching in preparation, but it would be worth it. She would be granted her waiver.

"This is it," she murmured, though her voice lacked any excitement in her find. She looked down at her stomach with a feeling of uneasiness. This was the right choice, wasn't it?

Brooke's lips set in a thin line. It was the _only _choice, she reprimanded herself and got to work on researching, not even noticing the bell ringing to signify that it was time to go to her next class.

By that Friday, Brooke estimated that she must have spent at least ten hours researching and preparing for the file of her request. She had scrutinized every possible question listed on the internet and written paragraphs in response to each one. She was turning into quite the little bookworm, Brooke mused (careful to substitute in 'bookworm' for 'Tutor Girl' even in her mind), as she disappeared into the library for the hundredth time that week.

"You're really taking this whole school thing seriously lately," a voice said dryly behind her.

Brooke spun around to find that Nathan had slipped through the door after her. "You need to stop sneaking up on me like that," she told him reproachfully.

He shrugged. "Maybe if you weren't so into studying, you would have noticed me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked shrewdly, her eyes darting over to the computer where she had done all of her research. Was it possible that he could have seen her throughout the week and knew what she was planning on doing?

"I mean that you've never been interested in school, Brooke," Nathan said exasperatedly. "And now, suddenly you're running off into here every single day? I don't see how we can work through everything if you keep avoiding me."

Brooke could have laughed with relief. "You think I'm avoiding you?" she said, unable to resist a smile. "That's what this is about? Don't be paranoid, Nathan."

Nathan scowled and looked down at his feet. "Well, what am I supposed to think?" he muttered.

Brooke sobered immediately. She realized that under the circumstances and with Nathan's limited knowledge on what was going on with her lately, it would have been very easy to come to the conclusion he had. It wasn't fair of her to laugh at him. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I warned you before; I have issues on top of my issues. This one in particular doesn't have to do with you."

"Should I feel relieved or insulted?" Nathan said, only half-joking.

Brooke sighed. "I haven't stopped thinking about you…or us," she said hesitantly. "But you have to understand that I have other things I need to work through first. The sooner I can work through those things, the sooner I can start concentrating on what we have between us."

"You said it would only be a few days," Nathan reminded her. He was careful to keep his tone neutral, but Brooke could hear the frustration and hurt fueling his words.

"I know," she said apologetically. "I got sidetracked. It's not fair, I know, but this is really, really important. It's something I should have taken care of a while ago. If you could just wait for a little longer…"

"I told you I'd wait, and I meant it," Nathan said firmly.

Brooke smiled. She hoped he'd stay true to that. "It wouldn't be a good idea to try and start something when I'm so out of it anyway," she reasoned. "Besides, more time apart might be exactly what we need. Gives us even more time to think."

"More time to think about you?" Nathan said with a slightly bitter laugh. "Trust me, that's all I've been doing."

"I know," Brooke said, standing up on her tiptoes and giving him a swift kiss on the cheek before she could stop herself. "Thanks for being so patient. This should all work itself out soon."

"I hope so," he said with a quirked brow as she flew past him, further into the library. He didn't know what was up with her lately, but he sorely wished she would confide in him like she used to. He knew Brooke was independent, but it almost seemed like she had closed herself off from him. Not that he didn't deserve it, he knew.

That afternoon, Brooke went to file her petition at the courthouse.

She pretended not to notice the eyebrow that shot up on the clerk's face when she told the woman what she wanted. "Hmm," the woman said critically. She reached inside a drawer, rummaging around for a bit before she pulled out a form. "Fill this out please."

Brooke took the form and looked over the questions. She glanced around nervously. Nobody was around. "This is confidential, right?" she said in a near whisper.

"Completely, honey," the woman said. "Do you need a pen?"

"Yeah," Brooke said. As an afterthought, she added, "please."

"Just give it to me when you're done," the clerk directed. She observed Brooke's apprehensive demeanor shrewdly. "You can fill it out in your car if you want."

Brooke nodded and hurried out of the clerk's office. She scribbled the requested information on the form using her math book as a desk. Once she finished, she brought it back inside. "Okay," the woman said briskly as Brooke handed her the paper, all business. "We have to schedule your hearing within the week. When are you available?"

"Any day is fine," Brooke said. "I have school till three."

"Of course," the woman said. She consulted something on her computer. "How does Tuesday at four sound? Four days from now."

"Perfect," Brooke said.

The woman punched a few things into her computer. "It's all set then." She picked up a few sheets of papers on her desk. "Here are some instructions on the judicial waiver process and an explanation of your rights to appeal. If you want, we can schedule for a court-appointed attorney to represent you, free of charge."

Brooke bit her lip. That would be one more person hearing her sad, sordid little tale. "Um, no thanks," she said.

"Are you sure?" the woman pressed.

"I can do this on my own," Brooke said more confidently.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the woman's face. "All right, honey. Be back here Tuesday at four."

"Okay," Brooke said. "Thank you, Mrs…" she trailed off sheepishly.

"Mrs. Altman, dear," the clerk said.

Brooke smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Altman." She turned on her heel, clutching her papers, and headed out to her car. Her smile fell from her face as she slumped into her seat. She was really doing this. Really, truly, actually, no turning back. Even the concept was scary.

"Tuesday," she murmured. Four days away. It seemed like such a long time to wait. She was ready now.

Brooke glanced back at the courthouse and swallowed, hard. Maybe not.

She pulled out of the parking lot and drove away.

That night, Brooke lay in her bed, skimming over all her meticulously taken notes once again. _Responsible Brooke_, she thought, smiling half-heartedly in amusement, _studying on a Friday night…_Brooke had already decided that she'd stick close to home this weekend. She wasn't in the mood for any more excitement or drama. Her heart had been hurt enough.

Around eight, Brooke's stomach let out a disgruntled grumble. She realized with a start that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning as she had skipped lunch in favor of finishing some last minute reading on court hearings. Briefly, Brooke had to stop and wonder what had made her throw herself into this so much. It was important, yes, but the timing was strange. She couldn't throw off the prickling feeling that, despite what she had told Nathan earlier in the week, she was avoiding him to some extent. As far as the whole abortion thing went, it may have actually been better that he had acted the way he had earlier in the week. She would have never been able to so fully immerse herself in this case otherwise.

Brooke's stomach rumbled again. She sighed and pulled herself off her bed. She grabbed a few pages of print-outs to take with her while she went downstairs to throw together some sort of snack. After bounding down the stairs and making a quick stop in the bathroom to rinse off her hands, Brooke padded into the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door to find…

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Why the hell had she fired that housekeeper?

Brooke knew she wasn't much of a cook, but she doubted even Karen could do much with ice cubes and mustard.

Karen…

Brooke perked up at the thought. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Karen's Café wasn't supposed to close for at least a little while longer. She should have enough time to drive over there and beg for a decent meal.

That was what she'd do, Brooke decided. She raced back upstairs and pulled on some jeans and gathered her hair into a messy ponytail. She couldn't help but apply a quick coat of lip gloss as well as she raced out the door.

She didn't make it very far.

"Mmph," Brooke mumbled in protest, her lips smothered by the fabric of somebody's shirt. She hadn't thought to look up and see if anybody was in her path when she bounded out the door. Brooke inhaled and sighed; she recognized that scent. Subconsciously, she felt the urge to relax against the person standing in front of her.

Brooke's eyes flew open wide, and she stumbled back with a hurried apology. She winced at how weird she sounded and worked to cover her mistake.

"Nathan," she admonished teasingly, "you keep getting in my way."

Nathan laughed in a low chuckle. "Maybe you should watch where you're going every once in a while."

"Nuh uh," Brooke said, "That's not how it works. Other people move out of the way for _me_."

"Unless that other person happens to be _me_," Nathan said smugly. He broke out in a tentative smile. "How have you been, Brooke?"

Brooke cocked her head in bemusement. "About the same as when I talked to you earlier today, I guess," she said.

Nathan shrugged. "I guess it just feels like we haven't seen much of each other lately."

Brooke felt an acute regret at his words and realized, despite the fact that they had carried on a short conversation that morning, she knew exactly what he was talking about. "It does," she agreed. "I'm sorry; it's my fault. I've been running around like a crazy woman this week. I was just about to relax for a little while and grab some dinner at Karen's though. Do you want to come with me?"

"Sure," Nathan said, smiling. His expression was cool and collected, but Brooke recognized the genuine happiness in his eyes. Swallowing, she had to remind herself that this wasn't a date. It wouldn't be fair to pull him in at this hectic point in her life. With the impending hearing and the abortion and everything, it just wouldn't work. Not to mention that she still hadn't completely forgiven him for how badly he had handled things last time they had tried to start something.

"Your car or mine?" Brooke finally said, trying to shake away her thoughts.

"Either one," Nathan said. "Mine's blocking yours in, so I guess I'll just drive us."

"Okay," Brooke said.

The ride to Karen's Café was marked by the fact that nothing of any particular interest happened. Brooke and Nathan chatted amiably about school and basketball. While Nathan was talking about a particularly dumb thing Tim had done in practice at length, Brooke let her mind wander guiltily to her sporadic attendance at cheerleading practice. More and more, she had left other girls in charge of running things, especially in the last week.

She was falling out of everything, she realized, sneaking a furtive glance at Nathan, who was still fully engrossed in telling his story. It wasn't right. This pregnancy was consuming everything in her life. But it would be over soon, she reassured herself, and things would go back to normal. She'd be able to resume captainship and work things out with all of her friends, especially him.

"We're here," Nathan said as he pulled into an empty spot. "Thank God. I'm starving. I haven't eaten since dinner."

Brooke looked over at him, askance. "This is dinner," she said.

Nathan returned the incredulous look. "No way. This late? This is an after-dinner snack."

"After-dinner snack?" Brooke repeated. "How are you even hungry if you've already eaten dinner?"

Nathan shrugged. "I always eat one more time before I go to bed. Got to keep my weight up."

Brooke sent him a truly sullen look. "I'm not speaking to you anymore," she said as she hopped out of the car and strode into the café.

"Aw, Brooke, come on," Nathan said as he quickly followed her inside. "I don't get what I did wrong."

Brooke stuck her tongue out at him. "Just because you're too skinny doesn't mean you have to rub it in my face."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Not this again," he said. "You're the perfect size, Brooke."

"Am not," Brooke pouted. She broke out into a smile. "But it's nice of you to lie to me."

"Shut up," Nathan groused good-naturedly. "Girls."

"What about us?" Brooke said, lifting a brow.

He slung an arm around her neck and ruffled her hair in a way that made Brooke squeal in indignation. "You're all impossible," he growled in her ear.

Brooke shivered at his proximity and pulled away, hoping he hadn't noticed. She stuck out her lower lip. "Maybe if all you boys weren't so dense, then we wouldn't be so hard to figure out."

Nathan snorted. "I doubt it."

"Do you two kids want to be seated now?" a voice said dryly behind them, effectively ending their bantering.

The two spun around to find, "Karen!" Brooke exclaimed, a blush rising on her cheeks. A distinct discomfort gnawed at her stomach, given her history with Lucas.

"Brooke, Nathan," Karen said cordially, and Brooke noted a fair amount of surprise in her tone. She shifted uneasily.

"Is it too late to order some dinner?" she asked.

Karen glanced back at the clock and then surveyed the two of them critically. She smiled warmly. "Of course not, have a seat," she said, gesturing over at a booth by the window. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Water, please," Brooke said, and Nathan requested a Sprite. Karen nodded and sent them one last fleeting, bemused look as she walked away.

Brooke bit her lip as she watched Karen fill their glasses behind the counter. "That was…"

"Uncomfortable," Nathan supplied, lounging back against his seat. "We should have expected it. Who had the bright idea of coming here?"

"Shut up," Brooke said with a glare. "I was hungry, and Karen makes really good egg salad sandwiches."

"Egg salad?" Nathan crinkled his nose.

"They're good," Brooke defended herself.

"I hate egg salad," Nathan grumbled.

"Well, what are you going to get then?"

"I was about to ask the same question myself," Karen said, suddenly materializing in front of them. Brooke started in surprise.

Nathan's eyes flitted over the list of selections. "An apple fritter," he declared, shutting his menu decisively. He plucked Brooke's out of her hands and handed them both to Karen.

"Good choices," Karen said, "I'll be back with your food in a little bit."

"I didn't know they had apple fritters here," Brooke said with a frown.

"Maybe you should have looked at the menu more closely," Nathan said condescendingly.

They continued back and forth for the next few minutes, until Nathan said something particularly vexing about cheerleaders and reading comprehension. Brooke scowled. "I've heard enough out of you tonight," she said.

"That's a shame because I'm having fun," Nathan said. He added a smirk just to annoy her.

"Arguing with me is fun?" Brooke questioned.

He grinned. "I couldn't think of anything I'd rather be doing."

Brooke flushed, and they were both saved an awkward silence when Karen showed up with their food. "Egg salad for you," she said, putting a sandwich down in front of Brooke, "and an apple fritter for you," she said, doing the same with Nathan's order. "Enjoy." She hurried off to attend to other customers waving her over for the bill.

Nathan looked down at his fritter greedily. "I will," he said belatedly as he picked up his fork, ready to dig in. He paused just before taking his first bite when he noticed Brooke starting at his fork mournfully. "What?" he said, alarmed.

Brooke sighed and averted her eyes. "Nothing."

Nathan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What was that for?"

"What?" Brooke asked.

"That sigh," he said. "Why did you do that?"

"I didn't," Brooke said innocently. "You must be hearing things."

"No, you definitely did," Nathan said, "and I want to know why." He then noticed that her attention wasn't on him anymore, but on the piece of apple fritter he had speared with his fork. His eyes widened, and he stuffed the piece in his mouth quickly. "No way," he said, once he had swallowed. "No."

"What?" Brooke said, eyes wide.

"You're not getting any, Brooke," Nathan said. "You should have ordered one if you wanted it."

"I don't want any," Brooke insisted. She took a reluctant bite of her sandwich. The look on her face was almost painful as she swallowed.

"You're impossible," Nathan said for the second time that night as he pushed his plate the tiniest centimeter towards her. "Go ahead."

"I don't want any," Brooke denied. She took another furtive glance at the fritter and then up at him. She struggled not to smile. "Well, maybe just a bite…"

In the end, Nathan relinquished about half his fritter to Brooke and accepted a few bites of her sandwich in compensation, even though he insisted that he hated egg salad. "Not Karen's," Brooke said firmly. "Eat some."

He reluctantly agreed that it wasn't all bad, and both of them broke out into matching smiles. Soon after, Karen came with the bill, and Nathan was adamant on paying.

"I was planning on coming alone in the first place," Brooke protested. "I brought money."

"No way," Nathan said firmly. "I'm the guy. I'll pay."

"Okay, one," Brooke said, counting off on her fingers, "that was so sexist, and two, it's not like this is a date."

Nathan's smile faltered. "Yeah, I guess," he said, trying to recover. He handed a perplexed Karen a few crumpled bills. "But I'm still paying."

Brooke glowered. "Fine," she said, flicking out a couple dollars onto the table surface, "then I'm leaving the tip."

"Whatever," Nathan said with a roll of his eyes. Brooke mimicked his actions. "Mature," he said wryly.

Brooke shrugged, unperturbed, and giggled. "Well, aren't you going to open the door for me?" she said, waiting expectantly in front of the exit.

Nathan made a face. "One, that's sexist, and two, it's not like this is a real date."

Brooke scoffed. "Now look at who's being the mature one," she said as she threw open the door herself and walked out with a huff. Nathan laughed and jogged ahead of her. He snatched the door handle of the car just before she could reach it.

"Allow me," he said, opening the door for her with an easy smile. He added in some complicated bow at the end that sent Brooke into giggles.

"You're the worst gentleman I ever met," she declared, climbing in the car anyway.

Nathan smirked. "But I'm the best looking one, right?"

"You wish," Brooke laughed and pulled the door shut herself.

Nathan chuckled and shook his head. He gave a rap on Brooke's window before jogging around the car and hopping into the driver's seat. Brooke was yawning when he got in. "Tired?" he asked as he pulled out of the parking space and onto the road.

She cracked open an eye and nodded. "It's been a long week."

"I'll say," Nathan shot a rueful smile in her directions. He was trying to keep things light, but he couldn't stop the regret from seeping through his voice.

Brooke grimaced. "Maybe we should stay away from that."

But now that it had been drudged up, Nathan was reluctant to let it go so easily. "Brooke, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I had fun with you tonight. It seemed like you had fun too. Why can't we try something real?"

"It's just a bad time," Brooke mumbled.

"Well, when is it going to be a good time?" Nathan demanded, frustrated. "I said I'd wait, but you have no idea how hard it is. I miss you."

"I don't know, Nate," Brooke said evasively. "Soon, okay?"

"No," Nathan said, shaking his head vehemently. "I just don't get it. Am I supposed to do something? What do I have to do prove that I've made my choice for real this time? You told me I needed a few days to sort things out, and I did. I pick you, Brooke. You're it. I know it."

Brooke bit her lip. "There's just so much going on right now…"

"Like what?" Nathan said, his voice pleading. "Let me in, Brooke. What's going on with you?"

She glanced over at him. He looked so earnest, so sincerely interested that she was sorely tempted to let him know what she was going to do. But it wasn't right. Not yet. He pulled into her driveway. "I'm sorry, Nate," she said. "I can't. Thanks for the ride. I had a good time tonight." She sent him one last sad smile before she slid out of the car and hurried up her driveway without sparing another glance back. She headed directly for her bedroom and threw herself on her bed, burying herself under the covers.

She didn't hear Nathan's car pull away until much, much later.

**Author's Note: **Well, that chapter took…forever. Mostly because of the research that had to be done for it. I was thrilled with the reaction to last chapter. Keep it up! **Oh, and just in case it wasn't clear, Brooke told Lucas about her plans to get an abortion and that's it. Nobody else knows.** And lastly, because it's useless to imagine that I could actually put out another chapter before then given my record: Happy Holidays, guys!

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	18. Marriage Proposal

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Eighteen: **Marriage Proposal

The rest of the weekend went by with little consequence. Monday would have been just as uneventful if Brooke hadn't crossed paths with the one person who she knew she would have to speak with about everything. She wasn't looking forward to the conversation, but she knew it had to be done.

"Lucas," she said, just as he was about to pass by after giving her a simple nod of acknowledgement. He stopped with a questioning look. It had been a while since she had initiated anything with him.

"Yeah?" he asked.

Brooke paused. She smiled tightly. "Um, I just sort of wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?"

Lucas looked surprised but smiled genuinely back all the same. "Yeah," he said. "I told you I'd be here whenever you needed me. What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Brooke glanced around. She had stopped him in front of the cafeteria on the way to lunch, and the hall was bustling with hordes of students. "Not here," she said. "It's pretty important. Could we go somewhere?"

"Sure," Lucas said agreeably. Brooke was sure he thought she wanted to talk about Nathan or else he wouldn't be nearly this pleasant. He put his hand on the small of her back in a friendly gesture and steered her through the crowd with him as they sought out privacy.

It wasn't hard to find. This Monday was a chilly day, beginning of February weather finally catching up with Tree Hill. A steady drizzle had accompanied the cooler temperatures, ensuring that the rest of the students stayed within the safe confines of the inside of the school. Naturally, Brooke and Lucas ventured outside, huddling together on the front steps of the school.

"You wanted to talk about something?" Lucas prompted.

"Yeah," Brooke said reluctantly. "I did."

Lucas waited. She knew he would.

"See, the thing is…" Brooke tapered off almost as soon as she had begun. She didn't know that it would be _this _hard to find the words. "I…"

He sat, waiting patiently. By now, Brooke would have been sure to make some smart remark if the roles had been reversed. She was grateful that he wasn't like that. This was difficult enough already.

"This week, well, I…" Brooke was determined to finish what she had started this time. "I started looking into getting an abortion."

Lucas's eyes widened, and, if she wasn't mistaken, seemed to light up. She eyed him suspiciously. "What?"

"What?" Lucas repeated innocently.

"That look," Brooke said. "What's that look for?"

"I'm just listening," Lucas defended himself.

Brooke shook her head. "Bullshit. You had a look. Why?"

Lucas flushed, abashed. "You caught me, I guess," he said, though there was little regret in his voice. His eyes still danced for a reason unknown to her. "See, when you first told me you were getting an abortion, I decided to look up some stuff about it too. Just a little research, you know? And, well, it's against the law here, isn't it? You'd have to get parental consent."

The muddled meaning of Lucas's look suddenly rearranged itself into something that made sense. It was a mix between joy and triumph. He thought she couldn't go through with it. Which was partly true, for now. She was still trying to decide whether or not she was angry with him for it.

"There's actually another way," Brooke said in a small voice.

The sparkle of good humor in Lucas's eyes vanished. "What?"

"I said there's another way," Brooke said, more confidently this time. "I found a way around having to tell my parents."

"What? How?" Lucas asked. A horrified expression settled over his features. "You're not planning on anything illegal, are you? Because I can't let you do that, Brooke. Not to yourself or the baby."

"It's not a baby yet," Brooke mumbled. He only continued to glare at her accusatorily.

"I'm not doing anything illegal, all right?" she snapped. "It's all about legality, in fact. I've taken it to the courts, Luke."

"You've _what_?"

"I filed my request last Friday. My court hearing is tomorrow," Brooke said. She crossed her arms in a gesture that she couldn't decide whether was stubborn or defensive.

"And the purpose of this court hearing is…"

"To get a waiver for my abortion. I won't have to tell my parents a thing."

Lucas sighed. "Why are you going through all this trouble? Why can't you just keep it?"

"I just can't, okay?" Brooke said sharply. "We've already been through this."

Lucas buried his head in his hands. His voice came out muffled. "It isn't fair, Brooke."

"I don't want a lecture about morality, Luke," Brooke said.

"You need one," Lucas shot back.

"Nothing about this is right," Brooke said. "Any decision I make will be wrong. I might as well pick the one that hurts the least amount of people."

"What about the baby?" Lucas demanded.

"It isn't a baby yet!" Brooke said, her voice jumping up to a high, near hysterical pitch. "Did you not take Biology?"

"It is a baby," Lucas insisted. "This isn't the right way to handle things."

"Sorry if I'm not too sold on your judgment when it comes to _handling things_," Brooke sneered. "You accepted my decision before. Why can't you do it now?"

"I never accepted it. I recognized the situation was more difficult than I originally thought, but I never accepted that. You can't do this, Brooke," Lucas insisted.

Those were exactly the wrong words to say. Brooke turned pale with fury. She leaned in close. "Never tell me I can't do something," she hissed in his ear, "because chances are, I can. And I will." She pulled away and straightened up, staring down at him contemptuously. "And do you want me to tell you something _you _can't do? You can't stop me, Luke. You can't make this decision for me. I've already made it."

She didn't wait for his reply or look back as she swung the front door open and stormed inside. She fumed for the rest of the day and was pleased when most of her fellow classmates widely steered clear of her. She didn't feel like answering any questions about the whirlwind of gossip she had been involved in recently. Brooke had fended them off enough in the past week already.

However, there were always the select few that were stupid enough and curious enough to ignore the warning signs.

"So," Theresa said, twirling her pen casually during French class, "Saw things get pretty heated between you and Lucas outside today. What was that about?"

Brooke glared at her sharply. "When did you see me and Lucas outside?"

Theresa shrugged. "I went to my locker during lunch. I saw you stomping through the doorway with that super bitchy look you get when you're angry, and then Lucas came in looking all depressed a few minutes later."

"He was depressed?" Brooke repeated slowly. Anger, she could understand. But why the hell would he be depressed? She realized he was against the abortion based on moral grounds, but he must have innately known that she was doing him a favor by not tying him down to a family at such a young age. He couldn't be _that _sad.

"Dragging his feet and hiding his eyes," Theresa said cheerfully. "What happened? Did you, like, reject his marriage proposal or something?"

"Marriage proposal?" Brooke said, horrified. She was beginning to feel like a parrot, but she seemed to be incapable of forming her own words at the moment. _What marriage proposal?_

"Well, you're pregnant, right?" Theresa said. "And since he's the father, he's like obligated to propose. We've all been figuring that it's just a matter of time, even if he's got that thing with Peyton or whatever. All us cheerleaders are thinking about the bachelorette party…or we were. Until you rejected him."

"Theresa," Brooke said, trying not to sag with relief but not bothering to hold back a roll of her eyes. "Lucas and I are not getting married. We never were getting married. He did not propose to me today."

Theresa looked aghast. "But what about the baby?" she demanded breathlessly. Her tone of voice indicated that she knew she was about to stumble onto some very good gossip.

Brooke only stared at her. The word _baby _seemed to render her completely void of any scathing remarks about how Theresa should mind her own damn business. After taking a deep breath, Brooke turned back around in her seat and did not speak to the other cheerleader for the rest of the class period.

She left Mandy in charge of the squad that day. She had no doubt that practice would be spent gossiping about her. Theresa would be sure to tell the rest of them about the conversation she and Brooke had shared, and Brooke's weird reaction after telling her that Lucas hadn't proposed.

Brooke had a headache. She needed a nap.

The next morning, Brooke was very surprised to learn her nap had lasted a little over twelve hours. She had plenty of time to get to school as it was only six, but she didn't feel like she had the energy. Her movements were slow and lethargic. Brushing her teeth alone had taken about seven minutes. She had nearly fallen asleep with the toothbrush in her mouth.

Brooke splashed cold water onto her face copiously, hoping to shock herself out of her funk. She only stopped when a wayward splash splattered onto yesterday's top and made the garment stick uncomfortably to her. "Whatever," she grumbled, stripping off the shirt and pants and stepping into the shower.

Brooke brought her notes to school for some last-minute preparation before her case that afternoon, but on the ride over, a cold fear gripped her. What if a nosy classmate happened to catch a glimpse at the sheets? She settled for studying in her car until the bell rang and then stashing them into the glove compartment.

"Hey, Brooke," Nathan said as she slid down into the seat in front of him, just in time for the last bell to ring. He had thoughtfully been giving her space ever since the catastrophe that was the end of their date on Friday.

"Nate," she replied back amicably, digging through her bookbag for her English notes. "Hah!" she said when she finally found them stuck inside the inside cover of her algebra book.

Nathan shook his head with a laugh. "You don't need those today. Mr. Nicholson is grading the papers we turned in on Friday. This is basically a free day."

"What papers?" Brooke asked blankly.

"You know," Nathan said, "the one about the most important person in our lives."

Oh, yeah. Brooke remembered. The person to the left of her had gushed about a favorite aunt. The person to the right had composed a piece about her best friend. She had written some drivel about a grandmother she had never actually met. But Mr. Nicholson didn't have to know that.

"Suppose you wrote about Daddy Dearest," Brooke said with a wry smile.

"Centered around how he almost ruined my life? Yeah, not likely," Nathan said.

Brooke frowned. "No? Hmm…what about your favorite half-brother? It was him, wasn't it? I know yow much you look up to your big bro." She couldn't bring herself to say the actual name _Lucas _for some reason. Even alluding to him gave her a twisting feeling in her stomach.

"You really suck at this guessing game," Nathan said.

Brooke waited expectantly.

Nathan sighed. "It was just Whitey, okay? I couldn't think of anybody else."

Brooke paused. She hadn't expected the answer, but it was oddly…"sweet," she murmured. Whitey _was _sort of like Nathan's mentor. He shielded him from Dan's wrath during the games.

Nathan was flushing bright red. "So, who did you pick then?" he demanded.

"Somebody I never knew," she said. "My grandmother."

"I'm sorry. Did she die?" Nathan asked.

"Last I heard she was tanning in Barbados," Brooke said, shrugging easily.

Nathan looked stumped. "Oh."

"Sorry," Brooke grinned, "I know that wasn't a very good sob story. I'll try to think up a better version later."

"Whatever," Nathan said, laughing, "I should have known."

"You should have," Brooke agreed. "You obviously haven't been paying enough attention to me lately."

Nathan's brow shot up. "Wonder why," he said noncommittally.

Brooke grimaced. "Point made. I know; it's my fault."

Nathan didn't disagree. "Maybe whatever it is you need to do will be over soon?" he said hopefully.

"Yeah, it will be," Brooke said. She tried to smile, but it was creaky and forced. It surprised her just how hard it was. She felt sick.

"Something wrong?" Nathan asked, concerned.

Brooke shook her head quickly. "No, no, not really," she said. "Just…thinking."

"What about?"

Brooke mumbled something unintelligible and turned her head away.

"Didn't catch that," Nathan said, noting that something was, in fact, wrong. He grinned, hoping it would take her mind off whatever was troubling. "It was me, wasn't it? You were thinking about me."

"You're just so sexy," Brooke said, rolling her eyes. "I couldn't help myself."

"It's okay," Nathan teased. "Happens all the time."

Brooke's eyes lit in recognition at the familiar statement, but it was obvious she was still otherwise preoccupied. "Not fair. You can't use my lines against me," she murmured.

"It was too good to pass up," Nathan said. Brooke smiled faintly, and he frowned. He was losing her, but why? "So _I_ was thinking," he tried again, "that since basketball practice is cancelled and I'm free, that you and me could do something after school today."

Brooke smirked. "You were thinking, were you? Surprise, surprise."

"Haha," Nathan said. "Well, how 'bout it? We could rent a movie and watch it at my apartment or something."

Brooke avoided the answer completely. "Why is basketball practice cancelled?" she asked.

Nathan sighed with impatience. "I don't know. Whitey's got some appointment or something. Doctor, dentist, chiropractor, whatever. Old people have lots of problems."

"Not very nice to talk about your hero that way," Brooke said.

"He's not my hero," Nathan said. "I just didn't have anyone else to write about."

"You could've written about me," Brooke pointed out.

"Right," Nathan snorted. "Brooke Davis is the most important person in my life right now because I asked her to hang out with me like ten minutes ago, and I'm still waiting for her answer. Sounds like an A-worthy paper, right?"

"I was actually thinking a C," Brooke said.

"Brooke!"

"What?"

"Can you hang out with me after school today?"

Brooke bit her lip. The cold twisting in her stomach settled into a tight knot. A grimace was frozen on her face. "I actually can't," she said softly.

Everything about Nathan was guarded and carefully nonchalant. "Oh," he said, "okay then."

"Nathan," Brooke said desperately, "I would really like to. You have no idea. There's just something else I have to do. Something really important."

"I get it," Nathan said. "We can reschedule. No big deal."

Brooke nodded, but something about the way she was avoiding his eyes made Nathan suspicious. "This something," he said slowly. Brooke glanced up at him, startled. She obviously hadn't expected him to delve further into the subject. It made him even more certain that something was amiss. "Does this something that you have to do today have anything to do with Lucas?"

"I…" Brooke said, clearly taken aback. "Well…" It was impossible for her to lie at this point. "Yeah, it does actually."

Nathan stiffened. His gaze shuttered. "I see," he said woodenly. "I didn't know…well, Theresa mentioned something the other day, but I didn't really…I just…Whatever. You and Lucas, huh?"

If it hadn't been for Brooke's impeccable self-control, her jaw would have dropped wide open. "Wha-what?" she said faintly. "Me and Lucas? Nathan, I think you've got the wrong idea."

"You don't have to spare my feelings, Brooke," Nathan said tightly. "You're pregnant. Lucas is the father. I know how it is. My mom and dad, remember?"

"Nathan, I…"

"No big deal, Brooke. It's just like you said. We never really had anything real between us anyway. I don't care," Nathan cut her off quickly. He smiled weakly. "It's not like I don't have plenty of back-ups to choose from."

All Brooke's attempts to explain things died on her lips right then and there. "Back-ups," she repeated flatly.

"Well, yeah," Nathan said with a grin that was too easy and too wide to be real, "A guy like me always has back-ups. Sort of like insurance, you know?"

Something in the back of Brooke's mind was screaming that this wasn't right, that this wasn't Nathan. It had hurt him when Lucas's name had been brought into the center of it all. She knew he had to be insecure about the history she shared with Lucas. She knew what he thought, mistakenly, but…_back-ups? Insurance?_

"I'm afraid I don't know," she said in a clipped voice. "Maybe it's just a guy thing."

Nathan snorted disgustedly. "Oh, please," he said. "Like I wasn't your back-up in case things fell through and Lucas didn't propose to you. I'm not naïve, Brooke. I'm a little dumb, obviously, since I fell for everything, but I see what it all was now."

"After everything," Brooke said, her voice soft and barely controlled. "After everything that we've been through, and everything that I've done, you can't possibly believe something as stupid as that." She glanced around and lowered her voice. "You saw me _cry_, Nathan."

"But who were the tears for, Brooke?" Nathan shot back. "I thought it was me at the time, but if you were so heartbroken then why did you say no when I said I wanted you? Give me time, you said. Meanwhile, in this time, you avoid me to go off god-knows-where with Lucas to try and see if he'd get down on one knee for you."

"How long did it take you to come up with this whole conspiracy theory?" Brooke demanded. "Because I guarantee that you over-thought it all."

"Did I? Then what are you doing this afternoon, Brooke?"

Brooke paled. Her lips narrowed into a tight line.

Nathan's lip curled. "That's what I thought."

The cold coils in Brooke's stomach snapped in a flame of fury, roaring inside her and burning her eyes. She sprung out of her seat. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" she hissed. "Yesterday, out on the steps Lucas proposed to me, and we're going to be married and have one big, happy family together, starting with this baby. Sorry that I used you, Nathan. Sorry that I thought up this huge, elaborate lie, so that you would lose Haley and be there for me, just in case things didn't go that way. Sorry that I'm such an evil, conniving bitch. But hey, look at it this way: now, you're free to hook up with as many of your little back-up sluts as you want. Everybody leaves happy, right?"

On the last word, she spun away from him, storming furiously towards the door. "Ms. Davis," her teacher called, "Ms. Davis, where are you going?"

"Bathroom," Brooke said shortly. She left the room, and not long after, she left the school.

She wasn't sure who she wanted to kill more: Nathan, Lucas, or Theresa.

**Author's Note: **Did the chapter title make anybody stop and go "what?" I know if I were reading this, I'd be like _it takes her seven chapters to get them to kiss and now all of the sudden they're getting married? _LOL. Instead, Nathan and Brooke are doing nothing but growing apart, and without Haley's good influence, Nathan's less than admirable qualities are showing through. His quick temper and open jealousy of Lucas, for examples. Hmm, maybe I should just give up and make this a Brucas. KIDDING! I've got the plot line set up for what may be the last few chapters and well…you'll just have to wait and see. ;) Review please!

_until next time..._

_caramelo_


	19. Hands of a Stranger

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Story Notes: **The information regarding the judicial bypass procedure in this chapter came in a large part from_ http / www . acluofnorthcarolina . org / reproductiverights . html_ and _http / www . miplannedparenthood . org / topics / law . htm_. The second one was actually a Minnesota website, but it was probably the most helpful one I found.

**Chapter Nineteen: **Hands of a Stranger

Four o'clock rolled around, and Brooke couldn't decide whether time had flown or crawled. She found herself staring up at the courthouse building, cowed by its imposing structure. Strange thing was, it wasn't even that big. _Nothing _was that big in Tree Hill. It was just…

She would be pouring her heart out in that building not long from now, telling strangers all about her unique situation and her terrible mistake and begging them to let her fix it the only way she knew how. It was all highly personal, and Brooke didn't do highly personal well. She liked to keep everything at an arms-length, under her control. Nothing about this situation would be in her control. Her future was in the hands of a stranger.

Brooke squared her shoulders. She was just going to have to make sure he made the right decision. Her resolve steeled, she tore her eyes away from their awestruck gaze on the building and clicked up the concrete steps in her heels. She refused to allow herself a deep breath before she pulled open the door. She couldn't admit to herself that she was that uneasy about everything.

The woman at the desk looked up when she heard the door open. Brooke strode over to her desk. "I'm Brooke Davis," she said, "I have a hearing scheduled today at four."

"Of course, I remember you," the clerk said. It was Mrs. Altman, the woman Brooke had encountered when she had come to set everything up. Brooke's cheeks flushed, embarrassed at not having remembered her. "No worries," the clerk laughed easily upon seeing her expression. "I just happen to have a very good memory for names and faces."

Brooke smiled weakly. She thought she felt her stomach give a toss.

Mrs. Altman must have sensed her anxiety. "Your hearing will be held in a private room, honey," she said in a softer voice. "I'll be attending. Clerk duties, you know."

"Right," Brooke said. She gestured vaguely to the notes she carried. "I read that somewhere."

The woman smiled approvingly. "I see you've done your research."

Brooke began to say yes just as they reached an utterly unremarkable door. The clerk stopped in front of it and knocked once. "Yes?" a gruff voice called from inside.

"Ms. Davis is here for her hearing," Mrs. Altman said.

"Come in."

She twisted the doorknob, and Brooke could feel her insides twisting along with it. The door opened to reveal an imposing man in a sharp suit with a stern expression on his face. Brooke figured he must have been in his late fifties, judging by the graying hair.

"Hello, Judge Mathews," Mrs. Altman said pleasantly.

Brooke attempted a smile. "Hello, sir."

The judge nodded solemnly in greeting. "Are we ready?" he addressed the clerk.

"I am," she said. She turned to Brooke. "Are you, honey?"

Brooke nodded.

"Let's get this started then," Judge Mathews said.

To begin with, Brooke had to be sworn in. She did so blankly, repeating the words as instructed with no feeling in her voice. She felt almost robotic. When it was over, she sank down gratefully into the seat provided. She made sure to remember to cross her legs as she was wearing a demure black skirt. She was trying to look professional, just like the websites had advised.

"Your name, please," the judge asked.

Brooke's eyes darted to Mrs. Altman. She had said that this would be confidential.

Mrs. Altman noticed her panicked stare. "We aren't taking notes, honey," she assured her. "This is just court procedure."

Brooke calmed down. "Brooke Davis," she finally answered.

"Do you have a lawyer representing you?"

Now Brooke thought this question was rather stupid, seeing as they were the only three people in the room, but she chalked it up to court procedure and politely answered, "No, sir."

An eyebrow shot up on the aging judge's face.

"I know, it's supposed to be better if you have a lawyer," Brooke explained hastily, "but I'd rather do this on my own. I want to tell my story with as little audience as possible. I've researched the procedure extensively, and I can do this, sir."

"You don't need to explain yourself unless asked, Ms. Davis," the judge said simply.

Brooke flushed and shrunk down a little into her seat. "Yes, sir."

Worriedly, she wondered if she was over-using the word "sir." It had been suggested on the sites she came across, but was there supposed to be a line drawn at a certain point?

"Do you go to school, Ms. Davis?"

Brooke snapped back to attention. "I'm sorry?"

"School, Ms. Davis?" the judge repeated sternly. "Do you attend a school?"

"Oh. Yes," Brooke replied. "I attend Tree Hill High."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"This would make you a junior?"

"Yes."

The questions continued on in this vein for a while as Judge Mathews asked about her grades and school involvement and if she had a job or played a sport. They were all fairly easy to answer, and Brooke slowly felt her confidence rising within her. Her devout dedication to cheerleading and her clear-cut goal in fashion design had impressed the judge. She balked a little at revealing her math grade, but so far it had been the only hitch she had encountered.

He then proceeded to ask her about her knowledge of abortions and the consequences and her other options, and she _knew _she had knocked it out of the park there. Her research had paid off, and Brooke knew she came off as poised and well-informed as she recited the words she had been memorizing for the past week.

"You seem to know a lot about this, Ms. Davis," Judge Mathews commented.

"I think it's important to know what you're getting into when it comes to situations like this," Brooke answered honestly.

The judge nodded. "Very true." He shuffled some papers and cleared his throat. Then the questions started getting hard.

It started out with, "Now, tell me, why don't you feel like you can raise this child?"

"I'm too young, sir," Brooke said bluntly. "I'm still in high school, and I'm going to want to go to college in a couple years. I wouldn't be able to keep up with everything."

"What about the father?"

"He's in high school too. He plays basketball, and he's acing all his classes. It would be too much of a burden for him," Brooke said.

"What about your parents? Do you feel like they could help you?"

"My parents are never home. They hate children, anyway."

"Is that why you feel you can't tell them?"

Brooke hesitated. "Well, partly," she said.

"Elaborate, please," Judge Mathews instructed.

"My parents never cared about me when I was growing up," Brooke said, taking a breath to steady herself. She had come into this office and sworn to tell the truth, and the truth she would tell. "As long as I was alive and out of jail, they were perfectly content to ignore me. All I had to do was be a poster-child to show off to their associates. If they found out that I'm pregnant…" Brooke paused as her sentence trailed off. She frowned and tried again from a different approach. "My family is all about image. I would ruin the family image if this got out. My parents would be absolutely furious. They would disown me."

Judge Mathews looked skeptical. "This is not going into dramatics, Ms. Davis?" he questioned.

"No, sir, it's not," Brooke said. "They can't know I'm pregnant."

"Is there anybody that does know about this pregnancy? Have you spoken with anyone?"

Brooke bit her lip. Nathan's party surfaced in her mind again. The amazed expressions and the gasps of delighted horror at witnessing such scandal…_you knocked up little whore_…Nathan's eyes, calm and comforting…"The father knows," she said slowly. "I've discussed everything with him."

"Including this hearing?"

"Yes," Brooke said.

"And how does he feel about everything?"

"He thinks I should keep the baby," Brooke said, "but I feel that it wouldn't be practical. As I said before, my parents wouldn't be able to handle the news of my pregnancy, and he lives with his single mother. They don't have the money to support two more people."

"I see," the judge said, sounding thoughtful. "Are you and the father still together, Ms. Davis?"

Brooke grimaced. "We aren't," she said truthfully, "but the break-up wasn't over the baby."

"What was it over?"

She swallowed. It felt like her heart was constricting. "He and my best friend…"

"It seems like this will not be relevant to the case," Judge Mathews said tactfully. "You do not need to continue if you do not wish to."

"Thank you, sir," Brooke said, sincere.

"Very well then. Is there anything you'd like to add, Ms. Davis? A closing statement, perhaps?"

Brooke paused, thinking carefully. After a few beats of silence, she finally answered, "I know I made a mistake, sir. We used birth control, but there were still risks involved, and I was well aware of them. I wish there was another way to handle the situation, but unfortunately in my situation, I feel like nothing positive could come out of carrying this baby full-term. It's selfish, but I need my parents to provide for me at this stage in my life, and if they were to find out, they wouldn't. I want to go to college, and I want to have a good job. I want to have a baby at the point in my life when I'm ready for one. I don't want to raise a child in a dead-end environment, and that would be the best that I could do at this point. There is no happy, secure family that I could provide for my child." Brooke took a shaky breath. She met the judge's unreadable eyes determinedly.

"My future depends on this decision, sir. I am mature, and I do know the risks of abortion. I still feel it is in my best interests to have one."

The judge nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Davis. If you'd step outside, please, I'd like a few minutes to deliberate on the matter."

That seemed to be the clerk's cue to rise. "Come on, honey," she said, leading Brooke out of the room. Brooke's legs felt wooden and sluggish as she followed Mrs. Altman back out to the main office.

The minutes rolled together into the most hellish half-hour of Brooke's life. She couldn't think coherently, and her emotions were overpowered by dread and anxiety. Finally, the judge stepped out of his quarters. "You can come back in now, Ms. Davis."

Brooke scrambled up from the uncomfortable wooden seat that had been her support for the last thirty minutes. She had to force herself not to race down the hall, and after what seemed like an abnormally long walk, she was finally back in the office, sitting down in another seat facing the judge.

The judge was all business. He made a few notes on a sheet of paper and cleared his throat importantly. "After considering your situation carefully and evaluating your maturity level, I've come to the decision that there is nothing to validate withholding your permission for an abortion. You seem to have a firm understanding about the procedure and yourself. You prepared well, Ms. Davis. I'm granting you the waiver."

Brooke felt a sense of relief washing over her and leaving her weak. "Thank you so much, sir. You have no idea what you've done for me."

"I hope you don't find yourself in any similar situations in the near future," was all the judge said. He gestured to the sheet he was writing on when she had come in. "Please sign here."

With a start, Brooke realized that this was the waiver she had been working so hard towards. Hands shaking, she took the pen the judge offered to her and scrawled her name on the line hastily as if she was afraid he suddenly would change his mind and revoke the waiver.

Her fears were unfounded. As soon as the ink dried, the judge handed her the sheet. "You'll need to take this with you when you go to get the abortion," he said. "Along with anything else they may require at the clinic."

"Thank you, sir," Brooke said again.

He made a gesture of acknowledgement and clasped his hands on top of his desk. "Best of luck, Ms. Davis. Goodbye."

"Bye," Brooke said in a near whisper, clutching her waiver tight in her hands and walking out the door.

Brooke didn't remember exiting the building or the car ride home. She didn't remember unlocking the front door and scrambling up the stairs into her room. She didn't remember collapsing onto her bed, boneless, exhausted. She didn't remember when or why she brought her limp hands up to clutch at her stomach, but that was the position she found herself in when she finally snapped out of her daze a considerable amount of time later.

She wrenched her hands away from their position, horrified, and her head snapped to the right to see her waiver lying on the bed beside her. She expelled a breath she didn't know she was holding and reached for the paper again. Her eyes ran over the words she had already memorized, but they still had yet to sink in. Somewhere in the back of Brooke's mind, the idea registered that she ought to schedule her appointment at the clinic.

She had already come across the phone number for the local clinic in her research, and therefore, it was already emblazoned in her mind, just like everything else about this entire process had been. The phone rang twice before somebody picked up.

"Women's Center, how may I help you?" a polite voice on the other end said.

"Hello," Brooke said. "I'd like to schedule an…" her mouth went dry, "an…abortion."

The woman didn't even pause. "Of course," she said kindly. "When would you like to schedule it for?"

"As soon as possible," Brooke said. "Can I do it for tomorrow? Is that okay?"

"We have openings at one and three," the woman replied.

"Three, please," Brooke said.

"All right. Name, please."

"Brooke Davis."

"Okay, Brooke Davis, just show up tomorrow at three with a photo I.D., your birth certificate, and a parent if you're underage--"

"I have a judicial bypass waiver," Brooke interjected.

"That works too," the woman said, unfazed. She had obviously dealt with these cases before. "There's an upfront fee of three hundred dollars, cash or credit card. Expect the whole thing to take a couple hours."

"That's fine," Brooke said.

"Okay," the woman said, "it's all set then. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks. Bye," Brooke said, hanging up the phone.

Brooke sighed and set off to gather the things the woman had told her she would need. Three hundred dollars…she was lucky her parents were so generous with her allowance. When everything was gathered into a neat pile on her desk, Brooke threw herself back onto her bed with a relieved sigh. Already, it felt like a huge weight was being lifted from her shoulders. Not long after, she drifted off to sleep.

Brooke skipped first period the next day.

A wry smile curled on her face as she waited out the hour in her car, parked in the school parking lot. She had spent hours swearing up and down to the judge that she was so responsible and so mature, and here she was skipping class.

She didn't want to admit to herself that Nathan was the reason, but he was. Brooke didn't need any more added anxiety tacked onto this day than there already was at the thought of her afternoon plans. She was doing the right thing, she kept reassuring herself; this was for the best.

Brooke was sitting erect in her seat by second period as if to make up for her previous irresponsibility. She even attempted to follow the notes and try a few examples on her own. Anything to take her mind away from, well, _that_.

The rest of the day passed in a similar way, and when the bell rang, she prided herself on keeping her cool and having successfully avoided…

"Nathan," she said flatly. He had obviously been waiting for her, perched on the hood of her car to keep her from running away from him.

"Brooke," he said, his eyes dark and clouded, "I…"

Brooke held up a hand. "I'm not hearing this," she said. "I'm tired of you and your self-righteous bullshit accusations, okay? And don't think that sitting on my car is going to keep me here listening to you. We'll see how long you can hold on once I get in and start driving."

"It's not…"

"Nathan, I don't have time for this," Brooke cut him off again impatiently. "I have somewhere I need to be, so if you'll kindly _get the hell off_..."

"Where?" Nathan asked abruptly.

"Why does it matter to you?" Brooke shot back.

Nathan's scrutinizing gaze on her didn't falter. "Just…where?" he said. "I'll get off if you tell me."

Brooke glared. Then she sighed and massaged her temples. If it would get him off with no more resistance, then how much could it really hurt? "Doctor's appointment," she said shortly.

"Doctor's appointment," Nathan repeated with a frown as he regarded her.

"Yes," Brooke said in a clipped tone. She wouldn't ever admit it, but his stare made something in her ache. "Now get the fuck off my car."

"Yeah," Nathan said, sliding off her car. He proceeded to walk right up to her, so close that Brooke felt her breath hitch. He reached for her hand and opened his mouth to say something, and that was when she narrowed her eyes and came back to her senses. Brooke had had enough. He wasn't going to do this to her again. She wouldn't let him.

"Go to hell," she seethed.

His mouth snapped shut, and something akin to hurt flooded his expression. It touched something inside of her, but Brooke was too angry to care. She rolled her eyes at his remorse and brushed rudely past him on the way to her car. She wasted no time in driving off and leaving him standing defeated and alone in the middle of the parking lot.

She hoped she had hurt him, Brooke thought vindictively during the drive over to the clinic. She hoped she had hurt him as badly as he had hurt her.

**Author's Note: **Big things are happening soon. I can't guarantee that all of you will be happy with the next chapter because I've heard arguments on both sides of the issue. I've known what was going to happen since the beginning of the story, but I'm not spilling. ;) Anyway, just keep in mind that no matter what, abortion is a controversial issue, and next chapter I will not be trying to force my views on anybody (actually, I'm not even entirely sure where I stand on it yet). I guess I'm just trying to ask that everybody – those who want Brooke to have the abortion and those who want her to keep the baby – to please keep an open mind. Thanks! You guys are seriously the best, keep reviewing!

until next time…

caramelo


	20. Merciless You

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Story Notes: **Last night, I had basically the entire chapter written out, and when I went to finish it this morning, for whatever reason, the disk it was saved on stopped working. I know, I'm an idiot for not having a back-up. Anyway, I'm basically just advertising this program I found called _PC Inspector File Recovery. _Just type that into Google, and you should get the website. It's this freeware (yeah, free!) that basically recovers any files off of a defective disk. Seriously, it found everything. It pretty much saved me because my second, half-hearted attempt to write this chapter was, to put it nicely, crap. _HOWEVER, _keep in mind that I've only had this downloaded on my computer for less than a day. I don't know if it downloaded anything I didn't want (viruses, spyware, etc.) yet. Hopefully not. If I hear anything, I'll take this note down immediately.

**Chapter Twenty: **Merciless You

Brooke wasn't sure which was harder upon first arriving at the clinic: walking past the line of protesters or scrawling her name on the sign-in sheet.

The protesters had been merciless. They had screamed to her about the evils of abortion. They had pleaded with her not to kill her baby. They had cried over the child that would never have a chance to experience life. They had even gone so far as to insist that she had other options.

Those bastards. What the hell did they know?

Brooke had steeled herself against their onslaught. She had walked in a perfectly straight, unhesitating line right up to the front entrance of the clinic. She hadn't spared them a glance, a moment of her time. She simply threw open the door unapologetically and took a bold step inside. When the door clicked shut behind her, she slumped back against it and shut her eyes.

Those cold, ruthless bastards.

But that was only the beginning of it.

"Miss?" a tremulous voice said. "Excuse me, miss?"

Brooke cracked open an eye. Upon seeing the receptionist, she pushed herself off the door in a herry and stood up straight. "Yeah?" she said.

"You'll have to sign in, please."

Brooke nodded. Of course. Completely reasonable. Almost everything required some kind of signature. Brooke couldn't count how many times she had had to jot down her name on something this week. She walked across the room and picked up the cheap black pen.

Brooke had to sign her name on everything. Schoolwork, permission forms, birthday cards…so why did it make her feel sick to her stomach this time?

Brooke swallowed. She was being ridiculous. She had worked hard to get to this point. This was what she wanted.

She lowered the pen onto the glaring white paper. Painstakingly, she curved the pen in to a B and then proceeded onto the sharp R and then…her fingers trembled. Brooke frowned at the jagged line that jutted out from the end of the letter.

_It looks so wrong._

Brooke wasn't sure whether she was thinking about the incongruous line or the other two perfectly legible letters of her name on that particular piece of paper.

_The line_, she decided hastily. It had to be the line.

It was around this time that she noticed the receptionist staring at her curiously. Brooke flushed with embarrassment. She must have looked ridiculous, like she didn't even know how to write her own name. She drew a thick curve over her mistake and quickly dipped into the second O. The rest of the letters followed in an agonizing, forceful rush. She dropped the offensive pen immediately after, and it fell back onto the clipboard with a clatter, striking another mark through her name. Brooke's eyes fixated on the strike and wondered if it didn't mean something.

"All right," the woman said. Brooke tore her eyes away from the paper. "I'm going to need your…"

"I've got it," Brooke cut her off quickly, thrusting forward everything she had been instructed to bring.

The receptionist blinked. "Thank you," she replied tactfully.

Another woman came through a set of doors off to the right not long afterwards. "Brooke Davis?" she said.

"Right here," Brooke stood up. The woman smiled pleasantly and beckoned for her to follow. Brooke grimaced. She felt frozen.

_One step at a time…_

She didn't know how she managed it, but Brooke soon found herself sitting in a very sterile, cold room, reminiscent of one at a doctor's office. The woman smiled at her again. "I'm Dr. Andrews. We're going to have to run a few tests and perform a physical exam before we get started on anything else. It shouldn't take too long."

"That's fine," Brooke said. Her throat was dry.

"I'm going to need you to change into this. I'll step outside for a few minutes."

Brooke nodded wordlessly and took the flimsy paper gown Dr. Andrews offered her. As promised, the woman slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her. Brooke stared hard at the garment in her hands and bit her lip. She hesitated before shrugging off her jacket.

A few minutes later, Brooke cracked open the door. "I'm ready now."

Dr. Andrews smiled, and Brooke wanted to tell her to stop. She felt scared, and unsure, and absolutely humiliated standing there in nothing but a thin hospital-issue gown. She might as well have been naked.

Brooke shuddered as Dr. Andrews took a step towards her, holding up a stethoscope.

It was then her mind went on auto-pilot. It was the only way she could get through it all.

Robotically, she stuck out her tongue when instructed, leaned back when instructed, and breathed when instructed. She flinched when cold metal touched her skin but made no other protest. She answered familiar questions with generic answers. Three-quarters of an hour later, Dr. Andrews excused herself, and Brooke was left in the room alone.

This was dangerous, she decided after five minutes had passed. Being alone allowed for unwelcome thoughts to stream across her mind, and she might do something rash if there wasn't somebody there to stop her. Her eyes caught the glittering metal of the door handle. Her stomach clenched along with her fist. She sat up.

The doctor breezed back into the room. The flame that had ignited inside her instantly blew out.

"Everything looks okay, Brooke. You're all set. Follow me, please."

Dr. Andrews must have read something in the tense silence that weighed upon the pair as Brooke trailed her down the hall.

"Brooke," she said kindly, "I know you must be sick of hearing this, but I have to ask, are you sure this is what you really want?"

Brooke met her gaze unfeelingly. "It's what I have to do."

Sympathy flashed across the doctor's face. After a moment, she nodded and resumed walking.

Brooke was led into a room much worse than the one before. Gleaming, threatening tools litter it, ones she knew would haunt her later. Machines stood in corners. A bed was in the middle. A strange contraption hung above the bed. Brooke squinted. It looked almost like stirrups.

Goosebumps rippled across her skin. She tasted bile in her throat.

"Vacuum aspiration is the safest, most common procedure for abortions," Dr. Andrews said. "Of course, you can pick another if you'd like."

"The safest?" Brooke repeated in a small voice.

"Usually the fastest too. About ten minutes," Dr. Andrews said.

Brooke looked away. Of course. For the first time she wished she hadn't done her research.

_This traditional 1st trimester abortion involves three main steps_, the website had said,_ (1) an injection to numb the cervix, (2) insertion of a soft flexible tube through the cervix into the uterus, (3) suction created by a manual aspirator (hand held syringe) or an aspirating machine to remove the uterine contents._

"Are you okay, Brooke?"

"I'm fine," Brooke said. "The procedure…it's fine too."

"All right," Dr. Andrews said. "I'll send in Dr. Jones. She'll be your abortionist."

"Wait," Brooke said, "you mean…you won't be doing it?"

Dr. Andrews shook her head slowly, confused. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

Brooke frowned. How was she supposed to know? "It doesn't matter," she said. "Just send her in."

Dr. Andrews' replacement was a cold woman who didn't say much. She didn't even introduce herself. "I need you to lie down on that bed," was her means of greeting.

Brooke braced herself and eased onto the bed. It was the kind with no pillows or sheets or even a mattress. Just a long gray cushion with a thick strip of paper running down the length of it.

"Put your legs through these holes," Dr. Jones said, tapping on the contraption Brooke had been eyeing earlier.

_So that's what it's for._ Brooke swallowed any vestiges of her pride that she might have had left and complied.

"Do you have a ride home?" the doctor asked. In the circumstances, it seemed like a very random question.

"No," Brooke said. "Why?"

"Normally, we administer a mild sedative. Is there anyone you can call?"

Brooke shook her head.

The doctor sighed. "The sedative isn't necessary. I'll be numbing the cervix regardless. You will feel some discomfort during the procedure though."

"It's fine," Brooke said. _Everything's fine_, she thought bitterly. _Fine, fine, fine._

"Are you ready?"

Brooke couldn't hesitate on this. She couldn't. Otherwise…

"No," she said.

"Pardon?" Dr. Jones lifted a brow.

Brooke's eyes widened in horror. "No, no!" she said anxiously. "I didn't mean that. I…I'm ready. Just do it fast, okay? Please? I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Ready," Brooke repeated firmly.

There was a sudden sting in her abdomen.

_An injection to numb the cervix…_

Brooke saw an object in the doctor's hands that looked out-of-place even here. It was blue and bent in her grasp and…

_Insertion of a soft flexible tube through the cervix into the uterus…_

Brooke forced herself to stop thinking. She stared up at the ceiling, counting whatever there was to count and determinedly not looking down. She heard a soft whirring and was forced to shut her eyes.

_Suction created by a manual aspirator (hand held syringe) or an aspirating machine to remove the uterine contents…_

_Stop it_, she screamed internally. _Stop it! Stop it! Stop thinking!_

The ache evolved from discomfort to actual pain. Brooke was fighting hard to hold back her tears.

And then it was over.

Sometime later, Brooke sat in the Recovery Room, as Dr. Andrews had called it. Someone had been there earlier to 'counsel' her, but after a few questions Brooke had felt dizzy. She had requested to be alone.

She was back in her own clothes now in a fairly normal room with no medical instruments or machines, but what she felt was far from relief.

What had she expected? That everything would go back to fucking normal? That she would be the same girl she had been before? Before the pregnancy, before everything?

_Yeah_, Brooke thought shamefully, staring down at the floor. Deep down, that had been exactly what she had though. Or been hoping for. Whatever.

But right now, all Brooke felt was guilt. And grief. And shame, of course. Lots of shame. She thought the protesters had been merciless before. Now, she knew better.

_You're the merciless one._

She was so alone.

She remembered the girl she had seen outside this same clinic not long ago. She remembered the raw expression of fear and loneliness on the girl's face.

Brook could finally empathize. She was that girl now.

Fingers rapped on the door. "Brooke?" Dr. Andrews muffled voice said through the door.

Brooke wiped at her watery eyes and sat up straight. "Come in," she said.

"Are you okay?"

Brooke didn't answer. She didn't have the energy left in her to lie anymore.

"I want to go home now," she said.

"That's fine," Dr. Andrews said gently. "The receptionist has all the papers you need. Remember the instructions you were given. Take it easy for a couple weeks."

"I will," Brooke said. "Thank you."

"Take care of yourself, Brooke."

Brooke slowly made her way back out to the reception area. She ached. The counselor had assured her that it was to be expected.

"Here you go," the receptionist said, handing her a few papers. "I just need you to sign here one more time."

Signing her name didn't seem to carry any particular weight this time. It was just one more thing she had to do. She handed the clipboard back to the receptionist. "That's all," the woman said. "You're free to go."

Brooke wanted to cry. This place was horrible, but outside would be even worse.

She didn't want to face it all alone.

The receptionist was staring again. "Sorry," Brooke croaked. She backed away a few steps then turned around to face the door.

_Nathan_.

He was watching her like he had been the night of Haley's party. That same, damned look. He was _there_. For her. He opened his mouth to speak. One word. "Brooke."

Brooked looked away. She _was _crying now.

"How…?" she choked out.

Nathan crossed the room in a few long strides. He wiped a tear away with his thumb. When she didn't protest, he tucked her against him. Brooke shut her eyes and burrowed herself closer against him. More tears stained his shirt.

"Brooke," he whispered again. "I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot."

Brooke gave one hard shake of her head. Not now. "You came," she said in a small voice. "I thought I was going to be alone."

Nathan's hold tightened around her. "No," he said fiercely. "No way."

She didn't know how long they remained this way, but having him there gave her the resolve she need.

"Can you take me home?" she whispered.

"Of course," Nathan answered. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," Brooke said, trying not to think about how those same words had been used in a different context not long ago.

Nathan briefly let go of her to hold open the door. The protesters roared.

He glared at them and immediately took hold of her again. She clung onto his shirt desperately. He led her through the crowd, and Brooke knew she'd never be able to make something like this up to him. This was everything to her. It didn't matter that the protesters were still screaming, and crying, and pleading. She felt safe.

Nathan opened the door to his car for her, and this time Brooke didn't make any jokes about him being a gentleman. She only hoisted herself up into the seat, vaguely aware of his hand on the small of her back guiding her, keeping her steady.

By the time, Nathan reached his side of the car, Brooke had fastened her seatbelt and slumped back against the cushion of her seat, staring blankly out the window. He watched her for a few moments before he spoke hesitantly, "I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

She said nothing, and he started the car.

Nathan pulled into Brooke's driveway twenty minutes later, and still no words had been spoken. Nathan looked over at her. She was in the same position as before.

"I'll walk you in."

This seemed to snap Brooke out of her trance. She blinked and glanced around at her surroundings, realizing for the first time that she was home. "You don't have to," she said quietly.

"I know," Nathan said. "Come on."

Nathan not only walked her to her door, but he continued on inside her house as well, even though she hadn't asked him to. He just seemed to know. As a contrast to the car ride over here, he was now filling the air with idle chatter.

"You don't have to worry about your car," Nathan said, knowing that she wasn't. "We can go pick it up tomorrow. Or I'll go with someone else, depending on how you're feeling."

"You can call into school sick tomorrow. I'll pick up your make-up work."

"Or, you know, I might skip too."

They reached the door to her room. Nathan glanced away.

"It's getting kind of late. You must be pretty tired."

Brooke didn't say anything. He took a step away. "I'm sorry. I should go."

Brooke's head shot up. Dread coursed through her. "Actually," she said quickly. He stopped. Brooke took a breath. "Actually," she began again. "I was wondering if you could stay with me. Just for a little while."

He regarded her carefully. "Yeah," he said. "I could do that."

Brooke nodded her thanks. "Just wait here till I change, okay? Then we can go downstairs and watch a movie or something. Don't leave."

Nathan promised that he wouldn't, and Brooke slipped inside her room. A few minutes later, she came back out, clad in pajama pants and a tank top. "Thanks for waiting," she said, obviously relieved to see him still there. "Come on, I can go make some popcorn and put in Never Been Kissed or some equally cheesy movie that you won't want to watch."

"Brooke," Nathan said gently, catching her fingers. "Maybe you should just take a rest. You don't need to entertain me."

Brooke's eyes clouded over, troubled.

"I'll still stay with you," Nathan assured her. "You've got that big chair next in there, right? It's pretty comfortable. I'll pull it up next to your bed. We can talk about anything you want, even if it's only to take your mind off of…that."

Her shoulders slumped. She rubbed at her tired eyes. "That might actually be the best thing."

"Yeah," Nathan said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her into her room.

Brooke attempted a pained smile and climbed into her bed. Nathan pulled over the chair. He had lied. There was nothing particularly comfortable about it. But he barely noticed it.

Brooke's lamp set a soft glow of light over the room. "I could turn it off," Nathan offered.

She shook her head quickly, emphatically. "It's fine the way it is."

"You sure?"

"I want it this way."

"Okay."

They lapsed into silence. Brooke lied flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She shut her eyes, and after a few minutes Nathan figured she was drifting off to sleep when she spoke.

"Nathan?"

He sat up straight. "Yeah?"

"How did you know?"

Nathan sighed. He knew exactly what she was referring to. "I talked to Lucas."

"You _what_?" Brooke's eyes snapped back open, and she twisted around to face him.

"I talked to Lucas," he repeated. "I felt like a huge jerk that day in Mr. Nicholson's class when you stormed out, but I was still pretty angry. So I confronted Lucas after practice." A regretful smile touched his lips. "I asked him what he was thinking, proposing to you. What right did he have after everything he did? Especially when he knew that I…

"He called me an idiot. And a few other things. He asked me where the hell I had gotten the idea that he had proposed to you. So I asked him why you had said you were busy with him that afternoon. He told me it was none of my business, and I was frustrated enough to let it go.

"Then today, after I talked to you, I went after him again at practice. I told him I knew I was wrong yesterday, and I knew there was something bigger going on. I kind of let on that I knew more than I actually did. And, of course, he starts going on about what a huge bastard I am, and how of course he hadn't proposed. You didn't want him that way anymore. In fact, you had been at the court house yesterday getting a judicial waiver, so you wouldn't have to deal with him at all."

Brooke opened her mouth to protest, stung. Nathan read her accurately. "I know he oversimplified it, Brooke. That wasn't the only reason you did it. He was angry."

Brooke stared at some far off point in her room, hard. Nathan reached out and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

"So after he said that, I remembered you had told me you were going to a doctor's appointment and put two and two together. It all just kind of fit, you know? And so I left practice and ended up…there."

Brooke said nothing. More time passed, although neither of them was sure how much. Despite his struggles to stay awake, Nathan felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness until…

"Nathan," Brooke said again.

He forced open his heavy eyelids. "Yeah?"

"I never said…thank you."

"It's nothing," Nathan assured her.

"No," Brooke said seriously. "It's everything. Thank you."

Nathan's gaze locked onto hers. He saw all the guilt and pain in her eyes and wished that he could stamp them out. But he also saw something else. Something that he had only seen in her the night she had stayed over at his apartment. He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek.

"You're welcome, Brooke."

**Author's Note: **Yeah, I know. She did it. I know this goes against some people's beliefs, and I'm sorry. This fanfiction was always going in that direction. I was afraid while writing it out that it was a little too graphic, but at the same time I didn't want to skip over the most important part of the story, so I tried to keep it tasteful. I hope nobody was too offended by the scene. I wish I had a link to give you guys, but unfortunately I lost track of it. I'll post it later if I find it again. I do know I did get a lot of help from the Planned Parenthood website too. Just rest assured that this chapter was researched just like the rest of them. Let me know what you thought. Special emphasis just for this chapter. Tell me if you think anything should be edited out in the particular scene I was talking about before. Really, guys. Please review!

_until next time…_

_caramelo_


	21. Cadence

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Chapter Twenty-One: **Cadence

He was watching her.

She didn't have to open her eyes to see it, she just _knew_. He was there. Watching her. He had been all night. She had endured a fitful sleep, writhing in her bed, tormented by a dream she knew all too well.

Doctor Karen. Lucas and Peyton. A glass window. Red flashing lights.

And something new. Nathan.

It had been around two o'clock when she first sat up, ramrod straight, in her bed. She had gasped for breath, sweaty and shaking. Her sheets were hopelessly tangled around her. Then, she had been surprised by the dark eyes that stared back at her. She had been close to screaming, but he had clambered out of his chair and onto her bed, taking her into his arms.

"Nathan," she breathed, clutching him close to her.

"Yeah," he said. "You're okay."

She hadn't answered, unable to do much more than tremble in his arms and struggle to compose herself. When she finally did, Nathan crawled back out of her bed.

"You don't have to-" she protested.

Nathan shook his head. "Too soon."

Brooke understood. He wasn't talking about himself, he was talking about her. He knew she wasn't prepared for that kind of intimacy tonight. She was grateful that he had the sense that she seemed to lack in this disoriented state.

The second, third, and fourth times she had woken up, panting, he had been there as well, still watching her, still a breath away to comfort her. And when she calmed enough to be able to think rationally, she wondered how she had gotten so lucky.

"I don't know why you're doing this," she whispered into his shirt. "Nobody else would. After all, it's…me."

"Maybe that's why," he had told her.

She hadn't understood his answer then, and it was still pretty fuzzy to her now. Maybe he had left it that way on purpose, vague and unelaborated. Maybe they weren't ready for clear, simple declarations like _I want everything with you _or _I love you_. It didn't matter. At least he was there. His presence made her feel warm, the kind that derived from knowing that somebody cared. It almost overshadowed the guilt that was tearing into her, ravaging her mind with images of bows and basketballs and the thought of what could have been. Almost.

She opened her eyes. Nathan stared back. Her lips curved into bittersweet smile.

"Morning," she said.

"Hey," Nathan replied. His voice was soft. "How're you feeling?"

Her smile visibly tightened. "Sore," she responded truthfully. "I don't think I'm going to school today."

"Definitely not," Nathan said firmly. "But that's not what I was talking about. How are you _feeling_?"

Brooke dropped her gaze. "I don't think it's really hit me yet," she said.

"Liar," Nathan growled. She looked up in surprise. "I know you better than that, Brooke," he said. "Let me in. Tell me what's going on up there." He gave the side of her head two gentle taps with his index and middle finger.

She sighed. "I don't know if I want to talk about that right now."

"Well, when you're ready…"

"Of course I'll come to you," she cut him off.

He gave her a look. "Promise?"

Her stare fixated determinedly on her bedroom door. "I promise."

Nathan frowned. Her words felt insincere, like a little kid who had her fingers crossed behind her back while she spoke. He wanted to ask for more, but she changed the subject.

"I need a shower."

"You said you were sore," Nathan said.

She shrugged. "I feel kind of off. Showers make me feel better. Besides, you can have a break. Take a nap or something."

"I'm not that tired," Nathan protested.

She lifted her eyebrow in an expression that clearly said, _yeah, right_. "Well, do whatever then. I'll be out in twenty minutes." She hoisted herself off her bed, allowing Nathan to steady her, but then utterly refused any more help from him as she moved slowly around the room, collecting her clothes and anything else she might need in the bathroom.

"You lie down," she instructed. "Don't say you're not tired. Just do it."

Nathan opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him with a glare. Reluctantly, he climbed on top of her knotted sheets and leaned back against the pillow as she grabbed a brush from her dresser and looked back at him.

"Don't look so uncomfortable," she said before disappearing behind the bathroom door. "My bed's pretty nice."

He sighed and tried to relax against her mattress. After about five minutes, he was struggling to keep his eyes open, despite his claim about not being tired. Another minute and he was asleep.

Sometime later, he woke up with a start. He glanced at the bathroom door and saw light shining out from the crack beneath it. Brooke was still in there. He tilted the clock to face him and frowned. It had been a little over an hour. What was taking her so long? Then he noticed it was absolutely silent. The shower wasn't running.

"Brooke," he called as he approached the door. "Brooke? Are you okay in there?"

Silence.

Worried lines creased Nathan's forehead. "Brooke," he rapped on the door. "Answer me."

Silence again.

"I'm coming in, Brooke." He twisted the door handle.

"The door's locked," a strained voice said from inside.

Nathan sighed. "Could you unlock it for me?"

Everything went quiet again. "Yeah," Brooke said after a few beats. "Just give me a couple minutes."

"Brooke…"

She didn't respond. Nathan waited patiently beside the doorway as the minutes ticked by, trying to ignore an uneasy panic rising inside of him. When Brooke finally emerged, she was fully dressed and her hair was almost dry, although it was a little curlier than usual. Her skin peeking out from beneath her clothes was pink after being scrubbed a little too hard.

"What happened in there?" Nathan asked.

She shrugged. "I took a shower. I'm still sore, so it took longer than usual."

"You don't have to lie to me," Nathan said quietly.

She met his eyes, and Nathan saw that hers were glittering. "I'm not lying," she said.

He only stared, not bothering to mask his disappointment. She felt her throat constrict painfully. "You've gotta be hungry," she choked out. "Let's get you some breakfast."

Nathan shook his head. "You should be in bed. I'll make something. What do you want?"

Brooke declined. "I'm not very hungry anyway."

"You should eat."

"I'm fine."

The rest of the day continued that pattern. Brooke staunchly refused to broach the topic of yesterday's events, and Nathan tried to give her the time she had requested. Most of the time was spent in a dreary, uncomfortable silence.

Friday, Brooke claimed soreness again, but insisted that Nathan go back to school.

"Whitey will kill you if you miss another practice. And I need you to pick up my work."

"I'm not leaving you, Brooke," Nathan argued.

"I'm not a child, Nathan," Brooke retorted. "I can take care of myself."

"But…"

"No," Brooke said. Her voice turned soft and pleading. "I could really use some time alone, Nathan. I just need to…think."

Nathan felt his resolve breaking at her rounded eyes and bitten lip. "Fine," he said. "But you'll call me if you need me?"

"You'll get your cell phone taken away," Brooke said.

"I don't care," Nathan said. "Call me."

"Yeah, okay," Brooke said.

Nathan walked towards the door. He hesitated before leaving. "Brooke?"

"Yeah?"

"I…never mind. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Bye, Nate."

He had come home that evening apprehensive, but she was only taking a shower, one that again ran much longer than the twenty-minute ones she had claimed she took. When she came out and saw him, she put on a brave face and a smile that didn't hit her eyes.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her all the worksheets and notes she had missed. "Come on, let's go downstairs and watch my Desperate Housewives DVDs while I pretend to do these."

"Desperate Housewives?" Nathan groaned.

A small smirk curled on her face. "I'm having a one-sided love affair with Gabrielle."

By Sunday, Brooke had coaxed him out of her house. On Monday, she was back in school. She lacked her usual sass, but otherwise she seemed to be functioning well. Throughout the week, she would come up behind him and link her arm through his, and he would look down to find her smiling.

"Hey, Hot Shot," she would greet him.

Nathan couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't all a charade.

He wanted to come home with her again and stay the night to see what happened in the privacy of her house, but he suspected it wasn't much different than in school. She seemed to have effectively burrowed her feelings in a place that even she couldn't reach.

Thursday afternoon was the first time she was forced to confront them.

"So, Brooke," Theresa asked idly at cheerleading practice. "When can we throw the baby shower?"

"What?" Brooke asked.

"Well, you cheated us out of the bachelorette thing, but we've got to do something. There hasn't been a good party in a while."

"I don't need a baby shower," Brooke mumbled.

"Oh, come on," Theresa said. "Don't be so boring. So tell me, as far as presents go, boy or girl?"

"Theresa, there isn't going to be a baby shower," Brooke said through gritted teeth.

"Why not? Seriously, Brooke, you can't let being pregnant turn you into some stay-at-home loser."

Brooke felt something inside her snap. "There isn't going to be a baby shower because there isn't going to be a _baby_, Theresa. So shut the hell up about your stupid party."

Theresa's eyes rounded. "You lost it?"

Brooke's jaw clenched. "Something like that."

Theresa looked like she wanted to say more, but Peyton, who had overheard the last part of the conversation, jumped in. "Drop it, Theresa," she said firmly, staring at Brooke with troubled eyes. Brooke sent her a tight smile of thanks and then avoided her for the rest of practice. The damage was done. By tomorrow, everybody would know that Brooke Davis had terminated her pregnancy.

Nathan came up behind her afterwards and rested a hand on her shoulder. "You look upset," he murmured.

She shrugged him off. "I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I _am_. Just tired. And sore. Maybe I should lay off cheerleading for a couple weeks."

"Yeah, take it easy."

Brooke nodded, though it was clear she was far away from their conversation. "I'll see you tomorrow, Nate."

That night she lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep was a foreign concept by now. She hadn't done so properly ever since she had pushed Nathan out the door. And after that thing with Theresa…no way was she even trying.

She decided not to go to school the next day. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the images that tugged at her mind, the ones that she had tried so hard to lock out.

_"Are you ready?"_

_"Ready."_

She gasped and buried her head in her hands, futilely attempting to block everything out. She couldn't do this. She wasn't ready.

"_Are you okay?"_

"_I want to go home now."_

Brooke searched in vain around her room. She needed something to distract her. Something to...

"_No."_

"_Pardon?"_

"_No, no!"_

Something to take the edge off.

Brooke sat up. She wouldn't find what she wanted in here, but she knew where she could. She steadied herself against the wall and limped towards her father's study.

Later that afternoon, Nathan stood at Brooke's front door. He had been concerned by her absence at school that day and had ditched the first chance he got to drive over to her place. He rang the doorbell, impatiently jiggling his keys in his hand.

Nobody came. He rang again.

Somewhere inside, Nathan heard the faint sound of what must have been a very large crash. He stiffened with alarm, then came to his senses and burst through the door, relieved to find it unlocked.

"Shit!" Brooke's voice hissed from the kitchen.

He ran over to see what was wrong. "Brooke, are you…" The question died on his lips as he caught sight of her. She was on the floor brushing shards of glass into a pile. Her right hand was bleeding profusely. "Shit, Brooke," he said, kneeling down and pulling her away from the mess. "What happened?"

She stared at him sullenly. "It was an accident."

"Of course," Nathan said. He paused as a familiar smell accosted him. He looked down at the pile of glass with narrowed eyes. "Brooke, have you been _drinking_?"

"I'm not drunk," she defended herself.

He glared. "Right. But somehow you end up on the floor bleeding. Let's get that cut bandaged up."

"There'll probably be a scar anyway," Brooke said, a few minutes later, as she sat at the counter while Nathan wrapped gauze around her hand.

"Probably," Nathan grunted.

"Just a little piece of glass and such a big cut," she babbled. "And a big scar for a big cut. It'll make my hand look weird, you know. It'll never go away."

"Most scars don't," Nathan said.

"No," Brooke agreed. "I've got a scar from pretty much every time I got hurt. There's one on my knee from falling off my bike when I was six. My dad was never home, so I tried to teach myself how to ride it, and I crashed into a tree. Then, when I was twelve, I got this one on my elbow from practicing cheerleading stunts with Peyton. Then I've got one on my ankle because…"

Nathan sighed as he taped the bandage into place. "I get it, Brooke. You got hurt, and it left scars."

Her lips twisted into a cold smile. Suddenly, she seemed very sober. "_It _didn't leave a scar."

Nathan's head shot up. Brooke laughed bitterly.

"Not one. You can't even tell it ever happened."

"Brooke…"

She looked away, but Nathan could still see the tears sparkling in her eyes. "Stuff like that should leave a scar, you know? Forget the stupid bike or Peyton's skinny arms dropping me or whatever. None of those things matter. But I had a baby inside of me, and now it's not there. And there's no sign at all that it was ever taken from me. I just feel empty."

Nathan stared at her with pitying eyes, his frustration forgotten. As the tears began to fall, he took her into his arms and held her close.

"There should be scars," she cried into his shoulder. "There should be scars all over to remind me of what I did. But I get out of the shower and look in the mirror and…nothing. And it's not right."

"Brooke," Nathan began.

"Don't tell me that it's okay," she warned through her sobs. "Don't tell me that it'll be better for me in the long run to not have any scars from this. It isn't, and it won't be. I just want something…I don't know…"

She burrowed herself closer against him. Gradually, her shoulders stopped shaking and her tears ran dry. When she spoke again, her voice was very small. "I want my baby back."

Nathan sucked in his breath, and she extracted herself from his arms, wiping at her eyes. "It's crazy, right?" she said, looking up at him plaintively. "I mean, I went through all that, and _now_, now I decide that I was wrong? Of course I can't just make halfway mistakes; I have to go all the way through with them so they're these huge, terrible bombshells of mistakes. I'm so stupid."

"Hey," Nathan said, finally finding his voice. "That's not true. You did what you thought was best for you, Brooke. It was a big decision – of course you're going to have second thoughts about it. It's going to be hard to live with for a while. But you'll get through it, and I'll be there to help."

Brooke stared at him blankly for a few minutes and Nathan determinedly kept the gaze. He wanted her to know he was being sincere. Eventually, she broke the eye contact and smiled bitterly. "I guess that was just another mistake I made."

He felt his heart clench. "What was?"

She looked back at him, but her eyes weren't empty this time. They were fierce, battling against repressed emotion. He saw something in them flicker. "Not letting you in before."

Silence. Brooke bit her lip. Hesitantly, she stuck out her hand.

"Stay with me tonight. Please."

Nathan's expression was unreadable. "You aren't going to push me away again?"

She shook her head quickly. "No."

"Look at me. Do you promise?"

Brooke took a quivering breath as she met his eyes. He gave nothing away, only stared at her with guarded eyes. She knew she couldn't keep stringing him along and then pushing him away like she'd been doing for so long. She had to make a final decision, one way or the other. She let out a slow exhale.

"Yeah," she said shakily. "This is me letting you in, Nate. For real this time."

Nathan regarded her carefully. "Okay," he finally said. "Let's get you upstairs. You look exhausted."

He took hold of her hand and gave her a tug. He glanced down at her, surprised, when she firmly held her ground. "…Brooke?"

There was a moment's hesitation. Her eyes flitted to his lips then his eyes then back again. And then she was pressed against him, her mouth moving softly over his, and he was returning the action. It was nothing like their first kiss – a frenzied, heart-stopping act as a result of blinding anger and hatred for each other. This kiss was quite the opposite, in fact. It was tender and gentle and almost hesitant. His tongue flicked out to beg entrance and her fingers tangled in his hair and then…

Then it was over.

"Sorry," Brooke said, panting lightly. "I just…"

Her eyes were wide, vulnerable. He could read the anxiety clouding over them, darkening her eyes with each passing second. It wasn't something he liked to see. With one gentle tug, he pulled her into his arms. He felt her stiffen. "I'm not going to hurt you, Brooke," he murmured into her hair.

"I'll hold you to that," Brooke said. She nestled into his chest and after a few more moments, she allowed herself to truly relax. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noted that he was supporting her more than she was standing on her own. Her legs were wobbly, tired. She tried in vain to stifle a yawn.

He took a step back. "You need sleep. Is the chair still up there for me?"

Brooke nodded and a smile flashed across his face. "Great, we're all set then."

As it turned out, Nathan didn't need the chair. When they reached Brooke's room, she refused to let go of his hand, pulling him into bed with her. He was on the verge of protesting, but she silenced him with a quick peck to the lips. "We're not going to do anything. I just want you here."

He looked down at her with thoughtful eyes. "I guess that's okay then."

Wordlessly, Brooke burrowed into the space between his arm and chest, and he clasped his hands around her waist. She could feel his heartbeat lying against him like this. Instinctively, she rested a hand on his chest just above the steady cadence, and that warm feeling from before simmered in her stomach, stronger. Her voice broke the quiet that had settled over the room.

"Nate, I…"

Her sentence trailed off. He tightened his arms around her and tilted his head to place a feather kiss atop her forehead. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Me too."

Not long after, Brooke drifted off to sleep with something akin to a smile curving on her lips. She and Nathan may not have been ready for clear, simple declarations like _I love you _or _I want everything with you_, but maybe the way they were handling things right now was actually kind of perfect.


	22. Don't Dream

**She Don't Dream for Me**

_By: caramelo_

_I do not own _One Tree Hill _or anything related to it._

**Epilogue: **Don't Dream

* * *

_A few months later…_

* * *

Nathan showed up at Brooke's doorstep just as the sun fell behind the tree line, bearing a bag of popcorn and some Milk Duds. He had called about an hour ago, and Brooke had been waiting impatiently for his arrival. She ushered him inside, playfully scolding him for being late.

"What did you want me to do?" he protested. "Fly over here? Traffic was a bitch."

"Okay, I've been to New York and all those big city places, remember?" Brooke said with a hand on her hip. "Traffic is pretty much nonexistent in Tree Hill."

"Well then there was just this huge, gigantic line of cars in between my house and yours. Sorry I couldn't push them out of my way."

"If you really cared about me and my needs, you would have done it," Brooke accused.

Nathan snorted. "What needs? The kind that require constant attention and superhuman abilities?"

"Tom Welling does it for his girlfriend," Brooke said stubbornly.

"Point proven," Nathan said. "Mine, if you want to get specific. Tom Welling plays freaking Superman on Smallville."

Brooke cocked her head. "You watch Smallville?"

"No!" Nathan said forcefully. "I just…"

Brooke's lips curved in delighted amusement. "You watch Smallville! I've got the DVDs from, like, every season. We can watch them together."

"I didn't think you were into all that sci-fi, comic geek stuff, Brooke," Nathan recovered, teasing.

"You know you find it endearing," she waved him off. "Besides, I'd do anything for Tom Welling."

"…Should I feel threatened?"

"Once again, Nathan, we live in Tree Hill. The chances of a hot, shirtless Tom Welling flying into the local airport and sweeping me off my feet is pretty much none."

"Somehow that didn't have quite the same effect as '_No, Nathan! You're way hotter than that pretty-boy Superman_,'" Nathan remarked dryly.

"I've always thought honesty was an integral part of any relationship," Brooke said with a careless shrug.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "One, that's bullshit. You told me we were going to the mall last week just to pick up _one _pair of shoes…"

"I didn't know there was going to be a sale at Nordstrom!" Brooke interjected.

"…And two, I told you to stop watching Dr. Phil when you got home from school."

"I didn't know I had such a bossy boyfriend," Brooke pouted.

"Oh, yeah. I'm absolutely terrible to you," Nathan scoffed.

Brooke nodded solemnly. "You should go buy me flowers or something to make it up to me."

"Um, how about some Milk Duds?"

"I guess those work too," Brooke said, taking the proffered box. "What're they for anyway?"

"I'm kinda wiped from practice this week," Nathan said. "I was hoping we could stick this popcorn in the microwave and just watch some T.V. tonight."

"My boyfriend never takes me anywhere nice," Brooke grumbled. At his disgruntled look, she laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "Kidding, kidding. That sounds good. You deserve a break after working so hard to become a big NBA star so you can buy me lots of pretty things when we get older."

"That's exactly why I'm doing it," Nathan said wryly.

"What other reason is there?" Brooke said. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. "I'll go put this in the microwave. You can go to the living room and pick out which Smallville DVD you wanna watch."

"That was a cop-out," Nathan growled playfully as he pulled back in for a kiss he deemed much more satisfying. She moaned against his mouth as he slipped his fingers just below the waistband of her jeans and pulled her flush against him, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in, colliding against hers. They clashed and fought and circled teasingly, and Nathan marveled at the change. There had been a time when this had been forbidden territory, something that would have made her retreat away from him out of fear of being too close, too fast. He had confronted the problem and assured her that they would be careful and take things slow. The wary trust in her eyes had held him to his promise ever since then, and they hadn't gotten much farther than this.

He wasn't complaining. This was incredible. They had plenty of time for everything else that came in a relationship. He didn't plan on letting her go any time soon. Definitely not.

"That tickles, Nate," Brooke giggled as his lips trailed down her neck. Nathan grinned wolfishly and lifted his hands off her waist…

"Nate!" Brooke shrieked. "No tickling!"

"Now look who's being bossy," he chuckled.

Brooke narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to take this popcorn into the kitchen now, and that'll be the last nice thing I do for you tonight."

Nathan stuck out his lower lip in a fair impression of her puppy-dog face that had coerced him into buying shoes, chocolate, and Cosmopolitans at eleven o'clock at night. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "That's not how you do it at all."

"No?" Nathan said. "I thought I was getting pretty good."

Brooke shook her head. "You're going to have to get some extra lessons in, Hot Shot."

"I'm not sure if I can," Nathan said earnestly, fighting the smile struggling at the corner of his lips. "You see, I've got this girlfriend, and she's pretty demanding…"

"I am _not_!" Brooke exclaimed. At his lifted eyebrow, she retracted gamely enough. "Okay, maybe a little. But you need guidance in your life, Nate. Somebody to mold you…"

"Into a shopping-bag-carrying, flower-buying, prep-boy Brooke slave?" Nathan said brightly.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Brooke said. "Now you go into the living room before I decide to go all Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider on you."

"That would be pretty hot," Nathan remarked.

Brooke glared.

"You got to say it about Tom Welling!" Nathan protested. She remained immobile. He sighed. "Brooke, you are way hotter than Angelina Jolie, and I will never watch Tomb Raider again if it makes you happy."

"And…" Brooke prompted.

"And?" Nathan repeated.

Brooke sighed dramatically. "We've been through this before Nathan. You're supposed to say something bad about her now."

"Oh yeah," Nathan said. She waited expectantly. "Um, her lips are too big?"

"That was good, but…"

"She's a cheating whore who stole Brad away from Jen?"

"Much better!" Brooke said with a big smile. "I'll go make your popcorn now."

Nathan shook his head as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. He really needed to stay way from Brooke's tabloid magazines. If the guys on the team knew…

"So what do you wanna watch?" Brooke asked as she handed him his popcorn and bounced onto the couch beside him. He shrugged noncommittally.

"I thought we had decided on Smallville."

"Nah," Brooke said. "I don't feel like staring at Tom Welling tonight. My boyfriend's way hotter."

Nathan caught her eye, and she smiled that classic Brooke smile that even he rarely saw anymore. But now that he thought about it, it had made its appearance more often in the past couple of weeks. He smiled back. It had been a challenging number of months for them, but she _was _healing.

"I heard there was a basketball game between Duke and NC State on today," Brooke suggested, breaking into his thoughts.

Nathan grinned and kissed her forehead affectionately. "You'll be bored out of your mind."

"But you want to watch it. I can tell. Besides, I think I'll appreciate something mindless tonight."

He studied her with shrewd eyes. "If you're sure…"

Later on, specifically in the last three minutes of a very close game, Nathan muted the television and looked down at the girl resting her head on his shoulder. She looked up at him questioningly. He smiled.

"There were some days when I'd never thought we'd get this far."

Brooke cocked her head, confused. He continued.

"I don't know if I told you this before, but you're pretty amazing, Brooke."

She felt a flush of warmth grow inside her. It often did when he was around. "You have," she said. "But I still like hearing it."

"Good," Nathan said. "Because it's the truth. After everything you've been through, you were still strong enough to bounce back and…"

Brooke silenced him with a finger on his lips. "I can't take all the credit for that one, Nate. You're pretty amazing too."

"You were the one that had to deal with all that stuff," Nathan shook his head. "I was just there."

"That meant more to me than anything, Nathan," Brooke said. "I've told you that."

"Yeah," Nathan said.

Brooke smiled and leaned back against him. "I guess we just make a pretty amazing pair, Hot Shot. Now, turn the volume back up. Duke's got the ball, and there's only thirty seconds left. I think they can pull it out."

"You're a Duke fan?" Nathan said with a raised brow.

Brooke shrugged. "If I had to pick, then yeah, sure."

Nathan shook his head. "The girl of my dreams definitely doesn't go for them."

Brooke smiled. "Well, the boy of my dreams lets me like whoever I want." She fell into a pensive silence. "Actually, you were in my dreams a while ago."

"Really?" Nathan said.

She smirked. "It was more of a nightmare actually."

"Should I be offended?"

"I guess not. You were the only good thing about it."

"Well, I guess I'm okay with that then," Nathan said, circling his arms around her waist. "Have you had any more of those nightmares lately?"

Brooke shook her head and nestled closer against him. "I really don't dream all that much anymore. According to Dr. Phil, this means I'm moving on from whatever loose end was hanging over my mind and manifesting itself in my unconscious state."

"Do you really think you're moving on from it, Brooke?" Nathan asked her gently.

"Maybe not moving on from it," Brooke said, choosing her words carefully. "But more like _with _it, if that makes sense. It'll always be there. I'm sure it'll pop up every now and then and throw me off. Remember when I saw that women with her kid in the grocery store?"

"He was screaming his head off," Nathan said. "And I looked over at you, and it looked like you wanted to start crying too."

"Yeah," Brooke said. "Like that. Some days I still think, you know, what if? Would it have been a boy or girl? Would they have been crazy like me or really shy? And then I realize that thinking about that kind of stuff isn't going to help me any. I have to keep going and look to the future. Some day, I'll be ready for a kid. Not now. But after I go to college and get married and hopefully have a job…

"But even then, it comes back to the one I didn't have, you know? I'll still feel guilty about it, but that's the decision I made. I have to trust that I did what was best in my situation. I have to keep thinking that even though a lot of people would probably disapprove of what I did, that I'm the one that knows me best and was the one who was best suited to make the choice."

"Quite a speech there," Nathan commented mildly.

"Yeah," Brooke said. "I got a little carried away. I've been thinking a lot about this stuff."

Nathan gave her a reassuring squeeze. "I'm glad you figured all of that out for yourself. And if you want to tell me about it, then I definitely want to listen."

Brooke rested her head against his chest with a contented sigh. "How did I manage to snag such a great boyfriend?"

He shrugged. "You're just lucky, I guess."

Brooke tilted her head and stuck her tongue out at him. Nathan laughed and ruffled her hair. With a scowl, she sat up and combed her fingers through the strands to try and untangle them. Nathan leaned in close behind her, still chuckling. She was about to turn around and lecture him again on keeping his hands away from her perfectly brushed hair when he laid a kiss on her neck that sent shivers tingling down her spine.

"I'm pretty lucky too," he murmured.

**Author's Note: **The end. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me so far, and if you're new, thanks for checking my story out. I hope everybody liked it. About the epilogue – I went a few months into the future because I really wanted to end this story writing Nathan and Brooke how I love to write them – playful and bantering. It's just the way I picture them, and it seems that a lot of you guys see it that way too. So, remember to leave a review, and if you wanna check out my other stories (including the already posted, new BL _Carve Your Heart Out Yourself _and for LP fans, _Wasteland_ which hasn't really gotten much response) and tell me what you think of them, then please go ahead! Thanks again, guys!


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